In summer satin, soft and white, she lies upon the meadow fair,
With golden bracelets on her arms and pearl-drops in her hair.
A dozen sapphires, fired blue, shine warmly on her face,
On the milky-skinned complexion of the fairest of her race.

In passion true, she reaches up, as welcoming as sure;
His resistance cannot stand against the touch of one so pure.
She parts her lips, a flower’s bloom, to cushion love’s sweet fall,
She has waited lifetimes long for him, most worthy man of all.

The consummation comes too soon, too quick the time draws near,
In parting sad, her pledge she gives, and he accepts with fear,
How well he knows their paths diverge, nevermore to meet,
With his single parting gift to her, his heart laid at her feet.

She lets her gaze go after him, her smile proclaiming trust,
She is beautiful; she knows he will return, because he must.
Her eyes the brightest jewels glow; their radiance to dim,
As she stares toward the western lands and vainly waits for him.

Before he lose himself to her, in lands away he finds,
Yet another of great beauty, sound of sword and heart and mind.
Long before fair Arwen forgets, he simply passes on,
Making slander of the fairy-tales of noble Aragorn.

And when departure time is come, the ship of dreams arrived,
Again the elfin heart will break, and her leaving be contrived.
For a hundred sakes, but none her own, she will walk from battle bold,
Seeking freedom from the memory of him whose love’s grown cold.

A thousand years or more have passed, since weeping at the stern,
She on the elf-ship left the earth, never to return.
Each day to her is sorrow, her heart is made of stone
As she lies on elf-fine silken bedding; distant, dead, alone.

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