The Charge of the Rohirrim

A mighty gate lay breeched and broke,
White City black, the outlook grim,
Then watchers spied despite the smoke,
Beyond all hope the Rohirrim.

The air was shook with cry and horn,
As hooves like thunder rent the field,
The Riders came on promise sworn,
But never yet their foe would yield.

Their leader blazed with Lordly might,
Swift and sure rode Theoden King,
The vermin quailed and took to flight,
Haradrim held, still mustering.

The Riders charged behind their Lord,
With golden hair that shone like sun,
Then clash of shield and ring of sword,
A captain felled, a victory won.

The King, outnumbered not out-skilled,
Drove mount and blade with deadly aim,
A man of flesh though iron willed,
Was dashed in hope as shadow came.

The evil swooped, his quarry spied,
A beast so foul the air was rank,
The King stood firm but steed defied,
And bested, crushed against its flank.

The Lord was felled beneath his mount,
Faithful Snowmane friend of men,
Together days beyond their count,
Alas the bane of Theoden.

Then stood a rider, small but strong,
One final act there to begin,
Then in she leapt, a deed of song,
Shieldmaiden Eowyn.

Her sheild and arm were bothly broke,
Her doom the Witchking surely seemed,
But halfling missed delivered stroke,
And taking chance she slew the fiend.

No greater prize that day was gained,
Her victory though was dearly bought,
She slipped to dreams and falling, waned,
Whilst all about her war was wrought.

The battle moved with turn for worse,
The Riders, scattered, now looked back,
The sight espied was Gondors curse,
Warships come with sails of black.

The ships disgorged though not with foe,
But allies new from south afar,
And shining stone upon his brow,
There leapt ashore King Elessar.

With axe and bow on either side,
He scoured clean the western shore,
With will and steel they turned the tide,
Upon the fields of Pelennor.

The City saved, they sent forth aid,
The Maiden borne away to mend,
Lord Theoden took and safely laid,
To Rohan soon for rest to send.

King Aragorn wore yet no crown,
But all there harkened unto him,
His battle done and fires put down,
He praised the mighty Rohirrim.

- Baron Wilderness