Come, come to the rushing sea,
Travel the whale's riding,
To Elvenhome return with me,
Calls the sea-gull singing.
Can I so lightly leave songs of the falls?
Where merry the laughter of fair Elven voices,
singing in fire-halls?
Can I yet leave while tree-herders roam?
And Dwarf-halls still ring while the beat of the forge,
Echos in trembling stones?
Come come, says the ship on the strand,
Why tarry ye yet in darkening lands?
For eagerly watching for each white sail,
Your mother waits in the moonlight pale.
Nay, nay, though the white shore be far,
Remember the king who in friendship fast,
For Followers' sake down crown did cast.
For hope as bright as Eärendil's star.
Not yet I'll leave the sunset trees,
the laughing streams, and take the sea,
Until dancing under star-lit skies,
In twilight depart ere the sun rise,
And come at last to the singing sea.
