Of all the songs of Gondolin
In it's fairest day,
None is fairer to the ear
Than that of Nephíríen & Voronwë.

In the city of the music of the fountain on the rock,
Made of gold and jewels and silver glass,
One of the sweetest loves of those ancient days,
Though filled with turmoil, came to pass.

In the hidden vale of Tumladen,
The brightest jewel under Beleriand's skies,
Two were who great in each other's hearts,
And seemed infinitely fair in each other's eyes.

Being of the immortal firstborn race,
No need did they feel to succumb to haste,
They savoured the slow fall into love,
If foresight had they, their time they would not waste.

Their days were the happiest of their lives,
They did talk and laugh and dance and play,
And whilst in the peace of dreams at night,
They savoured the blessed moments of the day.

Gleeful smiles never left their faces,
They were intoxicated by the love they knew,
Even amongst that most fair people,
Times of such purity of love are most few.

Voronwë; swift of thought, subtle of deed,
To learn and know and love was his life,
He embraced the beauty of the world about him,
And found peace and solace in the stars at night.

He delved long in search of the mountain's secrets,
He travelled far and long in order to learn
He wished to live a life worthy of remembrance,
But later, for simplicity and peace he would yearn,

Nephíríen of the Fountain; the maiden of Gondolin,
Of all the city's maiden's by far the most fair,
A smile she could bring to the darkest of hearts,
Unrivalled was her kindness, compassion and care.

Dancing and singing in the woodlands of Tumladen,
Her hair flowing behind her like a stream of gold,
Her voice could soothe the most troubled mind,
And fill with light even the emptiest soul.

They decided to not yet place hand in hand,
They tarried and delayed becoming betrothed,
They knew that they were the happiest they could be,
And thus, how by any change could things be improved?

But then greater things told a part in their fate,
They were drawn into the wake of greater things to be,
The High King Turgon called upon Voronwë
To sail to enlist the aid of those across the sea.

Gondolin was the last bastion still secure
Against the Enemy whom long they had waged war.
The High King knew that only the Gods of the West
Could bring the aid that would stop ruin coming to all.

Voronwë was of the most noble in the city,
Cunning in mind, wrathful in the fight,
Turgon wished him to sail to beg aid from the West,
In ships crafted by the Sea Elves of pearl white.




The couple resolved to make the most of
What little time left together they had,
So that no matter what grief may befall them,
They could look back upon these days and be glad.

The last days Nephíríen & Voronwë spent together
Were the happiest that they did ever live
They were utterly at one, to each other
Their bodies, minds, Hearts and Souls they did give

During the days they laughed and smiled
In the hidden vale’s meadows and woods,
Playing as though they were but young children,
To imagine a happier time, no-one could.

The rays of the sun came shining through
The leaves of the trees as if to make clear
The fact that never again shall any couple
Experience the love that was known here.

And when the nights did come to pass,
Beneath the stays they lay in the arms of each other,
They knew that no greater joy would they know
Except than when they were with each other.

A universe of it’s own, separate from time
Did come into being every time they did kiss,
To mortal minds their peace is ineffable,
Only once ever was there a love more pure than this.

But finally their gleeful days did come to an end,
As the High King decided had come they day
When Voronwë had, in order to beg help from the Gods,
Must leave with his people and sail far away.

Weep long did both Nephíríen & Voronwë
As they parted before the gates of the city,
They knew not what the future had in store for them,
And when the other each would next see.

Eventually the gates swung slowly open,
And of those who left Voronwë was the last,
For he was infinitely pained by their parting,
As his love for Nephíríen  filled his heart.

The company passed over the valley's floor,
With Voronwë leading them, tall and proud,
They reached the walls of the encircling mountains,
And thence began to pass underground.

That tunnel was delved long ages past,
By the ancient river Sirion's raging flow
Now Voronwë's company passed slowly along it,
That but one would walk it again they didn’t know.

The guardians of the hidden way
Watched Voronwë's company by torchlight dim
As they passed through the tunnel's Seven Gates
Which guarded the Hidden City Gondolin.

Finally they reached the world without,
Long since any from Gondolin had been.
They made their way across Beleriand's lands,
Until they came to the shores of the ocean.

They were welcomed into the harbours,
From whence they would cross the sundering sea,
And were granted a fleet of white Swan Ships
From the Sea Elves; the graceful Teleri.

Two dozen ships had been made ready, and to
the lands of the Gods Voronwë's company set forth.
But long ago from that land they had been exiled,
And if they tried to return the would suffer the God's wrath.

For many weeks the wind filled their sails,
And that soon to the West they would arrive hence.
Yet unforgiven by the Gods they were,
And they set upon Voronwë a storm of great strength.

Winds such as the breath of Manwë buffeted them,
Waves as tall as mountains did swell,
Rains that did pain you through their great strength,
For Voronwë to persevere would be most fell.

A tempest such as this Voronwë had not imagined,
Yet still his fleet pushed ever towards the West.
But no victory could there be against a storm such as this,
And by their determination, Voronwë's company welcomed death.

Their ships were destroyed by the power of the storm,
And the mariners struggled fruitlessly in the waves.
Yet they could not resist the force of the storm,
And eventually for all of them their strength gave way.

All perished in those waves; except noble Voronwë,
For a burning passion did greatly fuel him,
He would not give in, he would return to his home,
And once again hold fair Nephíríen.

For time beyond reckoning he did swim,
For thousands of days and nights he strove
The storm did not abate, but he heeded it not,
For all that concerned him was to return to his love.

No single greater and more impossible deed
Has been carried out by Elf or Man;
For when at last he reached his home shore
For nine years he had swam.

Exhausted he came upon the beach,
And lay nigh lifeless upon the sands,
He thanked the stars for pitying him,
As his hands felt again the touch of land.

And now came about a stroke of luck
Noon would ever had foreseen
For as Voronwë sat perched upon the rocks
By Tuor, of Mankind, he was seen.

By the grace of Ulmo, Lord of the Waters
Voronwë had been allowed to reach land again.
For Ulmo wished Tuor to carry out an undertaking,
In Voronwë's city of Gondolin.

Tuor was at first afraid of Voronwë,
As a wraith from the sea he did appear,
But Voronwë espied him, and bid him come to him,
And Tuor's fate overcame his fear.

The two did talk long of their lives,
And of events he had missed Voronwë did learn.
Voronwë felt the hand of fate on Tuor's shoulders,
And resolved to take him to the Hidden City, his home.

So together the two walked for many days,
Across the lands to where Voronwë did dwell,
Until at long last they came to the tunnel
That long ago the River Sirion did delve.

When the guardians of the Seven Gates saw
Voronwë they thought him surely a ghost,
For in the long years that had passed,
They presumed that all Voronwë's company were lost.

And moreover surprised they were to see
Voronwë in the company of a Man,
For ever since Gondolin's foundation, against
Tuor's kind entering it there had been a ban.

Yet the will of Ulmo, Lord of the Waters,
Filled Tuor and Voronwë, and drove them on,
And so the guards of the Seven Gates,
Allowed them to pass through to Voronwë's home.

And now Voronwë was filled with joy
That he would see Nephíríen again,
For whom he had suffered long and hard,
And at the sea's hands endured much pain.

To his city he ran like the wind
Across the Hidden Valley he all but flew.
For he was about to hold Nephíríen once more;
With every step his happiness grew.

He passed the gates and entered the city,
Sprinting as if possessed by an unearthly charm.
He entered their house: And his soul was destroyed,
As he saw Nephíríen in Glorfindel's arms.

Glorfindel; Voronwë's greatest friend.
Many adventures together had they led.
But in the nine years of Voronwë's absence
Nephíríen had married Glorfindel instead.

Nephíríen could not believe what had happened,
That Voronwë had appeared in her door.
She thought that it was some illusion,
Or spectre or phantasm which she saw.

Glorfindel & Nephíríen explained that all
Had thought Voronwë dead, and slain
Had been Nephíríen's heart by the news, and
Glorfindel had tried to soothe her pain.

And in the time they spent together,
A new passion in their hearts did form,
And they fell for each other and married,
Thinking Voronwë was forever gone.

Voronwë was utterly broken and destroyed,
It seemed that his reason to live had come to and end.
Yet some small consolation there was,
That in Tuor he had found a true friend.

The High King Turgon, although wary of Men,
Treated Tuor like a long-lost son.
For although of Mankind he was alike to the firstborn,
And he became a great prince of Gondolin.

And whilst in the court of the High King Turgon,
He was filled with a love that was most fell,
For though romances between Men & Elves were rare,
Tuor loved Turin’s daughter Idril Celebrindal.

Although few Men were given the grace to be with
The Immortal and fair maidens of the Elven race,
In such high regard was Tuor held by Turgon,
That to marry his daughter he gave Tuor grace.

And so joyous crowds filled the city’s streets,
And at the marriage all did celebrate,
But in the midst of all this happiness,
Voronwë was left there filled with hate.

Still he loved Nephíríen as he always had,
And still he cared for Glorfindel his friend.
But it seemed to him that this joy was meaningless,
And at the sight other’s love his heart did rend.

Though he abode in the most beautiful of Middle-Earth’s lands,
And amongst a people so fair as to stagger Belief,
None of it brought even the merest speck of hope to his Soul,
For so utterly overwhelming was his grief.

When he lay on the grasses during the nights,
He found the stars above no longer had the power to enthral,
Faint, distant and hopeless they seemed now,
It seemed to him that he had no longer a thing to live for.

Now Voronwë was of Elven-kind, and as such immortal,
No old age would come, nor disease afflict him,
Their bodies would always remain everyoung,
Though they may grow old and weary within.

But that is not to say that Elven folk could not die,
For to two deaths they were indeed subject to fall,
One was that they could die from grievous injury,
Were a mischance to occur, or were they to go to war.

But their other demise is something strange to us.
The labours of life could tear their soul apart;
They could die from loosing the will to live;
They could die from a broken Heart.

And indeed so it seemed it was going to be,
For the life in Voronwë started to wither away,
As each day passed his affliction worsened and worsened,
It seemed that soon would come to pass his final day.

Though his Elven body could have lived forever,
His soul had life sucked from it every time he did cry,
And every day for him was but a torrent of tears unending;
It would not be long before his Heart would die.

But oft in history new hope arrives from the strangest places,
And to this the tale of Voronwë is no exception,
For once again his life was about to torn apart,
And from this his salvation would come.

For of those who dealt in the Hidden City of Gondolin,
Voronwë was not the only one with a love unfulfilled,
Maeglin, nephew of Turgon the High King,
Lusted after Tuor’s wife, Turgon’s child Idril Celebrindal.

Now his desires were well known to all on the city,
But it was not the custom of the people to wed such close kin,
But still he was a prince held in most high favour,
For cunning, crafty and powerful was Maeglin.

Yet Maeglin was torn apart by the sight of Idril’s marriage,
And his Heart was torn apart inside of him,
And in his sly mind he formed a plan to have her for his own:
The utter ruin of the Hidden City of Gondolin!

Now Maeglin had made secret ways through the mountains,
Which Gondolin and the vale of Tumladen were encircled by,
And thus he planned to escape and betray the city,
To the Dark Lord, Elven-kind’s greatest enemy.

And when he came to the citadel of the Enemy,
The knowledge Maeglin came with filled the Enemy with glee.
For long had he wished to destroy Gondolin,
Yet he knew not where it might be.

But now he did, and prepared to make war upon the city,
And with Maeglin he did make this accord:
That Maeglin would lead the Enemy’s army to Gondolin,
And that for his treachery, Idril would be his reward.

And so it happened that as Voronwë was nearing death,
That the army of the Enemy reached Gondolin;
Dragons crawling, Balrogs wrapped in shadow and flame,
Trolls and Orcs numbering in the millions.

And though his desire to live had left him,
Whist his city needed him Voronwë would not succumb,
And at least this way his death would have meaning,
And perchance be worthy of song.

And so his will for life did return to him,
He donned his armour, took up his bow and sword,
For the defence of the city he loved,
He went forth brave and proud to war.

And as the enemy host entered the vale,
Burning, and destroying all that was good and fair,
Voronwë found himself beside Glorfindel at the city’s gates,
And they readied themselves to make their last stand there.

Their foes smote open the gates to the city,
Surging forwards onto the defends like waves,
But against Dragonflame and Balrog whips,
There was no way they would win the day.

Defender after defender fell in the city’s streets,
Neither shield nor shining mail could save them,
After days of fighting Voronwë and Glorfindel retreated,
To defend the palace of the High King Turgon.

The city was ruined and set to flame,
All who were caught were put to the sword,
All because of the seething lust for Idril
That drove Maeglin to make his accord.

And even as Maeglin came close to the palace,
Leading the attacker’s in the city’s demise,
He was filled with an evil passion,
As he felt sure he was close to having his prize.

But centuries before when the city was first constructed,
A secret way out of the city Turgon did make,
And so the last fought desperately to reach it,
And thus from the city’s destruction escape.

Though in this attempt many lives were lost,
Amongst them was slain Turgon The High King,
Before he yielded, Turgon killed the traitor;
He severed Maeglin’s head with his sword, Glamdring.

And so, though that magnificent city had fallen,
A handful of survivors managed to flee,
Amongst them Voronwë, Glorfindel, Nephíríen,
And, though Tuor was lost, Idril with Ëarendil their baby.

But they found that the mountain pass through whence they fled,
Was held against them by a force of the Enemy’s Orcs,
And leading them was a thing of shadow and flame,
A fell Balrog with a flaming sword.

Knowing they could not pass whilst the Balrog stood there,
Voronwë strode forward, as he already wished to be dead.
However Glorfindel struck him, and threw him back,
Choosing to fight the Balrog himself instead.

The Orcs withdrew at the sight of Glorfindel,
For he was a terrible sight, and Elven-Lord revealed in his wrath.
But the Balrog was not daunted, for he was terrible too,
And he strode forward ready for the clash.

The duel of Glorfindel and the Balrog upon the mountain,
Is remembered to this day in many a song,
Both were mighty, and had great power behind them,
The fight was awful, fearsome and long.

But in the end the Balrog was cast down from the mountain,
But so grievous were his wounds that Glorfindel also did die,
He had chosen to selflessly sacrifice his life,
So that his dear love Nephíríen could survive.

And so the rest of Gondolin’s handful of survivors
Were able to escape, and from the city’s doom were free,
And they made their way across the lands,
And reached the harbours of the Elves of the Sea.

But the Sea Elves also were in danger,
For fear of the Enemy, they intended to flee their lands,
But they prepared for the survivors of Gondolin
A place of safety; a refuge upon an island.

And so on the Isle of Balar they did long dwell in peace,
Living in memory of all that they had lost in Gondolin’s fall,
And many wearied of their life in Middle Earth,
And wished to depart to the West’s distant shore.

And the two most distraught in their island refuge,
Were the two who once thought their happiness couldn’t end;
Nephíríen who had suffered the loss of her love,
And Voronwë, who had lost his dearest friend.

But the weariness for live that Voronwë had known,
Had left him, and from his soul’s torment he was free,
And together Nephíríen and Voronwë looked back,
And cherished brave Glorfindel’s sweet memory.

And as they spend the evening sitting together,
Sitting on Balar Isle’s shores, watching the waves and the calms,
Remembering together the happiness of days past
They found solace from their grief in one another’s arms.

And slowly, within Nephíríen’s Heart, a feeling awoke,
As slow and subtle as the melting of a frost,
And within her she began to know once again
The love for Voronwë that she had lost.

And thus one eve, whilst sitting upon the sands,
They looked for an eternity into one-another’s eyes,
And Voronwë knew that Nephíríen’s loved him again,
And Nephíríen’s knew Voronwë’s love for her had never died.

And suddenly they pulled apart from each other,
For by a great shame each of their Hearts did fill,
For noble Glorfindel had given his life,
So that they two may live out their lives still.

They knew not what it was that they should do,
Should they in Glorfindel’s memory remain apart?
And yet to do this would leave them forever alone,
And would be a betrayal of their Hearts.

And thus for many years they lived in doubt,
But eventually the torment became too much pain,
And they went into each other’s arms,
Never to loose their love ever again.

They were no longer haunted by the thought,
That they were in betrayal of Glorfindel’s sacrifice.
For they knew that he did what he did
So that the two of them could live a happy life.

And so on their island refuge they abode,
And the wars of the world did pass them by,
For whatever fear, worry, or sadness they may feel                  
They knew it would they would loose it in each other’s eyes

For thousand of years they relived the joy that had known,
In Gondolin, in those long past days
And once again evergreen was the love
Between Nephíríen and Voronwë.

And eventually they decided to be one forever,
And finally chose to lay hand in hand,
And the days of joy they knew is the Hidden Valley’s woods,
They new once again on sands of their island.

And once years beyond human reckoning had passed,
They desired to live their unending lives in rest,
And so it was that they sailed away in peace,
And loved each other forever more in the uttermost West.