Tiriel
Lines:51Movement:Romanticism
And Aged Tiriel. stood before the Gates of his beautiful palaceWith Myratana. once the Queen of all the western plainsBut now his eyes were darkned. & his wife fading in deathThey stood before their once delightful palace. & thus the VoiceOf aged Tiriel. arose. that his sons might hear in their gatesAccursed race of Tiriel. behold your fatherCome forth & look on her that bore you. come you accursed sons.In my weak arms. I here have borne your dying motherCome forth sons of the Curse come forth. see the death of MyratanaHis sons ran from their gates. & saw their aged parents standAnd thus the eldest son of Tiriel raisd his mighty voiceOld man unworthy to be calld. the father of Tiriels raceFor evry one of those thy wrinkles. each of those grey hairsAre cruel as death. & as obdurate as the devouring pitWhy should thy sons care for thy curses thou accursed manWere we not slaves till we rebeld. Who cares for Tiriels curseHis blessing was a cruel curse. His curse may be a blessingHe ceast the aged man raisd up his right hand to the heavensHis left supported Myratana shrinking in pangs of deathThe orbs of his large eyes he opend. & thus his voice went forthSerpents not sons. wreathing around the bones of TirielYe worms of death feasting upon your aged parents fleshListen & hear your mothers groans. No more accursed SonsShe bears. she groans not at the birth of Heuxos or YuvaThese are the groans of death ye serpents These are the groans of deathNourishd with milk ye serpents. nourishd with mothers tears & caresLook at my eyes blind as the orbless scull among the stonesLook at my bald head. Hark listen ye serpents listenWhat Myratana. What my wife. O Soul O Spirit O fireWhat Myratana. art thou dead. Look here ye serpents lookThe serpents sprung from her own bowels have draind her dry as this[.]Curse on your ruthless heads. for I will bury her even hereSo saying he began to dig a grave with his aged handsBut Heuxos calld a son of Zazel. to dig their mother a graveOld cruelty desist & let us dig a grave for theeThou hast refusd our charity thou hast refusd our foodThou hast refusd our clothes our beds our houses for thy dwellingChusing to wander like a Son of Zazel in the rocksWhy dost thou curse. is not the curse now come upon your headWas it not you enslavd the sons of Zazel. & they have cursdAnd now you feel it. Dig a grave & let us bury our motherThere take the body. cursed sons. & may the heavens rain wrathAs thick as northern fogs. around your gates. to choke you upThat you may lie as now your mother lies. like dogs. cast outThe stink. of your dead carcases. annoying man & beastTill your white bones are bleachd with age for a memorial.No your remembrance shall perish. for when your carcasesLie stinking on the earth. the buriers shall arise from the eastAnd. not a bone of all the soils of Tiriel remainBury your mother but you cannot bury the curse of TirielHe ceast & darkling oer the mountains sought his pathless way