West of the Moon

A Tolkien Fanfiction Archive

 

 

The Smallest Hands
A song written by King Elessar's Court Bard in Minas Tirith, in honor of the four hobbits.
Category: General
Date: 2006-03-20

 

We hearken to the harp and hear
of deeds of Elves and Men;
of Silmarils, Thangorodrim,
and fallen Gondolin;

of Beren and of Lúthien;
of Eärendil the Star;
of Hurin who was sadly cursed,
and Turin Turambar.

We sing of fallen Númenor,
and faithful Elendil,
who of his folk a remnant saved,
to do the Valar's will.

We tell of mighty Gil-galad,
who led against the foe
an army vast of Elves and Men
to lay the Shadow low.

And by such things our hearts are stirred,
to know these tales of yore;
the dire deeds done and victories won
by those who went before.

So we see then in our mind's eye
these heroes brave and tall
with faces fell and mighty arms
who answered to the call.

In such a way we measure them
whose deeds we may admire,
by strength of hand and height from ground,
to such we may aspire.

There is a land so fair and green
far to the north and west,
where dwell a folk but half Men's height,
in peace and plenty blest.

They plow the ground, they till the earth,
a simple folk, we find,
who laugh and weep and live and love;
with open hearts and kind.

Yet even there did Evil reach
far to the west and north.
Against the Shadow's fearsome clutch
were four who ventured forth.

Although in height but half as high
full twice as large their hearts.
When darkness threatened all they loved,
they sought to do their parts.

Into a world grown grim and cold,
where perils oft await,
they wandered in their innocence
toward an uncertain fate.

And two there were, who carried off
by fell and fearsome foes,
yet by their wits and strength of will
they both struck mighty blows.

And two there were who went alone
into the Shadow's lair;
where nothing good may there be found,
and all is bleak despair.

Betrayed and beaten, whipped and cursed,
they managed to endure.
they struggled on through pain and thirst,
where only death was sure,

and into malice Mercy cast,
and Love and Grace prevailed.
So Power and Pride did tremble then,
And thus the Darkness failed.

Perhaps it was to humble us
when Chance or Purpose called--
and into smallest hands did give
the greatest deed of all.

 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a song supposedly written in Minas Tirith by Menelcar the Minstrel, in honor of the four hobbits.

 

 

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