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The Rohirrim

Lament for the Rohirrim

Where now the horse and rider?
Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk?
And where is the hair that was flowing?

Where is the hand on the harpstring?
And where is the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest
and the tall corn growing?

They have passed
like the rain on the mountains,
like the wind in the meadows,
The days have gone down in the
West, behind the hills into shadow.

Who shall gather the smoke
of the dead wood burning?
Or behold the flowing years
from the sea returning?

Call-to-Arms of the Rohirrim

Arise, Arise riders of Theoden!
Fell deeds awake, fire and slaughter!
Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered
A sword day, a red day, ere the sun arises

Ride now, ride to Gondor!

Arise now, Riders of Theoden!
Dire deeds awake, dark is it Eastward
Let horse be bridled, horn be sounded

Forth Eorlingas!