All that is gold does not glitter All that is long does not last All that is old does not wither Not all that is over is past And I may not get through in time Oh, Elfstone, bearer of my green stone In the south under snow, a green stone Thou shalt see Elfstone In the shadow of the dark throne, for the hour is at hand That long hath awaited thee, Greenleaf, bearer of the Elvenbow Far beyond Mirkwood, many trees on earth grow Thy last shaft when thou hast shot Under the mournful trees thou shalt walk Under the mournful trees thou shalt walk For dark are the waters of Kheled-zâram And my heart trembles at the thought that I may see them soon I am longing for harmony, the freedom within me Out of dark to the day's rising, I came crying in the Sun Sword unsheathing, to hope's end I rode and to hear my heart breaking Now for war All that is gold does not glitter All that is long does not last All that is old does not wither Not all that is over is past And I may not get through in time Oh, Elfstone, bearer of my green stone In the south under snow, a green stone Thou shalt see, Elfstone Now for ruin and red nightfall When black breath blows and death's shadow grows All light pass life to the dying, in my hand lying Shrivels like old mist, like winds go wailing In the shadow of the dark throne, for the hour is at hand That long hath awaited thee, Greenleaf, bearer of the Elvenbow Far beyond Mirkwood, many trees on earth grow Thy last shaft when thou hast shot Under mournful trees thou shalt walk For dark are waters of Kheled-zâram Oh, Elfstone Shrivel like the old mist, like winds go wailing Lost and forgotten be, darker than the darkness Where gates stand forever shut The world is mended