As sheltered from the shadow's power,
You sweetly slumber, safe and sound,
We form a ring in darkest hour
And pass the light of hope around.

Your father would be at our side
But still must journey far and wide.
Though stony roads keep us apart
We hold mettarë in his heart.

Should he feel cold and quite alone
Where bitter wind chills to the bone,
Without a fire, his rations short,
We will warm him with our thought.

And if, towards the close of day,
His weary steps should go astray
As dark clouds hide the stars above,
We will guide him with our love.

Perhaps, though far from journey's end,
He shares this evening with a friend.
They halt their stride, in cave or mire,
To say the words and light the fire.

Tomorrow we will feast in hall
And laugh in spite of shadow's pall,
And sing the songs in which we store
A little grace from Numenor.

And if in music's soft caress
You feel the touch of Westernesse,
Your father knows it's not in vain
That Rangers walk in frost and rain.
 
So, when the midnight hour is near,
We strike a spark against our fear,
And light a candle, fair and white,
A beacon calling in the night.

As sheltered from the shadow's power
You sweetly slumber, safe and sound,
We form a ring in darkest hour
And pass the light of hope around.

****

Thanks to Altariel for lending me her winter solstice customs from A Pale Light Lingering.