Showing Off Our Poems & Songs
Carols of Middle-earth: 10. We Seven Sons of Fëanor Are
Sung by the sons of Fëanor to 'We Three Kings of Orient Are'
We seven sons of Fëanor are,
Chasing sil’mrils scattered afar,
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Nothing our oath shall bar.
Chorus:
O, gems of wonder, gems so bright
Last remains of Trees’ great light
Oath that holds us, gives no solace
The Silmarils bind us tight.
Holy jewels that nothing can stain;
Craft by Fëanor with lore arcane;
Light forever, ceasing never,
For these our grandfather slain.
Chorus
A madness gripped our hasty good-bye;
From Valinor flew, to Morgoth defy;
Oaths were saying, Lindar slaying,
In swan ships we East did fly.
Chorus
The ships burn now, a bitter perfume
Wafting through the Middle-earth gloom;
Flaming, fighting, bleeding, dying,
Our father went to his doom.
Chorus
Now we are left to hunt for this prize,
The dwindling sons whom all do despise,
Blood that stains us, can’t restrain us
The Sil’mrils are our demise.
Chorus
We seven sons of Fëanor are,
Chasing sil’mrils scattered afar,
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Nothing our oath shall bar.
Chorus:
O, gems of wonder, gems so bright
Last remains of Trees’ great light
Oath that holds us, gives no solace
The Silmarils bind us tight.
Holy jewels that nothing can stain;
Craft by Fëanor with lore arcane;
Light forever, ceasing never,
For these our grandfather slain.
Chorus
A madness gripped our hasty good-bye;
From Valinor flew, to Morgoth defy;
Oaths were saying, Lindar slaying,
In swan ships we East did fly.
Chorus
The ships burn now, a bitter perfume
Wafting through the Middle-earth gloom;
Flaming, fighting, bleeding, dying,
Our father went to his doom.
Chorus
Now we are left to hunt for this prize,
The dwindling sons whom all do despise,
Blood that stains us, can’t restrain us
The Sil’mrils are our demise.
Chorus
