Lords of the Valar

Noblest of the Holy Ones,

First in the Thought of the One;

Lord of the Breath of Arda,

Master of air and storm.

Lord of wind and birds he is,

And rules from the tallest of mountains that be,

He is the Elder King of Arda;

Ruler of the Powers is he.

Fairest of the Holy Ones,

Bearer of the Light of the One,

She hallows with her touch;

Before her darkness is undone;

Giver of light and Queen of the Stars,

Is the wife of the Elder King;

Beautiful beyond all telling,

Of her the Firstborn sing.

He is he great King of the Sea,

The oceans are in his sight.

Lord of water in all its forms,

Friend of the Elder King, and third in might.

The Power most skilled in music is he,

He fills the world with his song.

He loves the First and Secondborn;

Towards Middle Earth does his heart ever long.

An inventor is this Power and Master of Crafts is he,

Maker of Mountains, in new workmanship is his glee.

Sire of the Khazad, he is revered by the Masters of Stone,

Lord of the Substance of Arda, its deepest secrets his alone.

Always creating he is, making ever increasing plans;

Loved is he by the Noldor, and by all who craft with their hands.

Giver of Fruits is this Lady,

And every plant from tree, grass and rose.

She is Queen of the Earth, Wife of the Smith,

Lover of all that grows;

She nourishes the world, protects that which is green;

Wheat, she bestows, and corn,

She adorns the world with her colors;

Through her concern were the Tree Shepherds born.

He is Master of Spirits; First and Secondborn heed his call,

When the time comes to depart life, they are summoned to his Hall.

Evil doers wise would be to turn from the path they tread,

For someday all must stand before the Judge of the Dead;

He forgets nothing and foresees that which what will be,

As Doomsman of Arda, most aware of Divine will is He.

In the utmost West the Mourner lives and ever grieves for Arda’s pain,

She gazes out upon the starlit sea and her tears fall like the rain.

Alone she dwells, but often visits the Halls of her brother,

For in the Halls of the Dead, injured souls does she help recover.

Those in pain she strengthens;

Those who mourn she helps cope,

She is the Lady of Sorrows,

But above all she gives hope. 

Loud is the Trumpet of the mighty Lord of Trees,

He is the Great Rider and from him evil flees!

Lord of Forests and Tamer of Beasts, is the Huntsman of the Powers;

The most fearsome warrior of Arda, before him monsters cower!

Discoverer of the Firstborn, he was the first Power they met,

It was he who led them Westward and guarded them from threat.

Revered by the Rohirrim, they are grateful to him indeed;

For the Mereas, their greatest horses, descend from his great Steed.

Strong his body and thunderous his laugh,

Steadfast his heart, none escape his grasp.

Most physically powerful of Arda’s lords;

The Champion of Valinor no need has for swords.

Golden in beard, merry and bold,

That which is evil flees from his hold!

Lord of Lorien, King of Dreams,

In sleeping minds he unfolds great themes.

Brother of Judge and Weeper;

Granter of comfort and release,

Ruler of the fairest of gardens,

In his realm all find peace. 

Grey are the robes of the Healer of Hurts,

Wife of the King of Dreams;

In his gardens she dwells, though by day she sleeps,

On an island where the waters of Lórellin gleam;

As her husband grants dreams, so her gift is rest,

This Queen, noble and tall;

Tender and gentle is her manner,

Sleep and healing does she impart to all.

Weaver of history is this lovely Queen,

So knows all that has been;

And as the Ages pass and events occur,

Of them does she ever weave and spin.

All tales of the past are hers to know,

Her tapestries adorn her husband’s Halls.

Beautiful beyond compare are her works,

Like jewels they gleam on the walls.

Spring is her realm,

Beauty her name;

Flowers her heralds,

Her praises birds proclaim.

Sister to Earth Queen,

Wife of Forest Lord;

Her great beauty,

All turn toward.

The Hunter her brother,

Woodland creatures her charge;

The deer her companions,

Both small and large;

Dancing her joy,

Running her friend,

Her mate wrestles the darkness,

She races the wind!