Their number was nine, brave and valiant they were;
Behind mask of wizard, one had much of lore,
'N the guise of an old man, was called many names,
He set his great wisdom to heal and save;
Was all clad in gray until his time was come;
Then power uncovered shone like rising star.
A Stranger of Wild wander'd in distant lands,
And countless were dangers he had ever faced.
His scabbard concealed a renowned ancient sword,
Reforged anew to revive common hope.
The wind of remote plains played with his hair.
A light-footed Elf prince, courageous and fair,
Left green forests' rest for a perilous way
To strike for the freedom not sparing himself;
His arrows were sharp and no miss did they know.
Lothlorien's gift was his knife and his bow.
A dwarf was another, stood firm on the ground,
With axe in his belt, being stubborn and stout,
He came from the Lonely Mountain itself
And joined the Company on their errand:
A daring defender, a real friend as well.
A prophecy led a high-minded man there;
Beguiled he was by the Dark from the East
Gave in to a lure just a few would resist.
That fault of his was then cruelly paid,
He doughtily fell, with his soul unstained.
A merry young fellow had known no grief,
Loved festivals, songs, ran in meadows in spring;
Still friendship was stronger than hunger and fear,
Things hidden before deep inside were revealed;
Faced a dreadful foe yet devoted remained.
As most of his coevals, the youthful of Them
Was careless and risible, dreamed about feats;
What he would experience and what he'd forfeit,
Could never imagine. Unconcern had gone;
The Guards of the Citadel he is among.
In a lovely neat garden right up the Hill
Was heard a soft clicking of gardener's shears.
Yet faithfulness was in his essence and blood
A warrior now, with fire in sight,
Would go anywhere for his master he served.
But heavy a burden fell to that one's lot:
A path in the dark, no repose or respite
In fearsome land devoid of ray of light;
With onerous load spinning him downward
In withered ill waste, gainst the wind sharp and cold.
From peril to peril their purpose them led,
From battle to battle, to fights at daybreak;
The sword was unsheathed, and the bow was drawn;
Many fearful ordeals had been undergone.
The Quest was fulfilled and the mission performed.
'Praise them with great praise!' for they saved Middle-Earth!