"Dwarves are a race apart."
So spoke a master of lore,
Knowledgeable in the histories of Middle-Earth.
Yet one dwarf there was
Who put away secrecy and desire for worldly gain,
Who put away memory of long-past injury,
Though not without struggle.
One dwarf there was
Who pledged his axe
For the defense of the small.
Though less in stature
Than many a tall warrior,
No less his bravery or his daring;
No less his loyalty or his determination.
His attack was bold
And unflinchingly accurate
When he laid axe to Ring;
He knew nothing of temptation,
And cared not for the danger.
His pledge was whole-hearted,
And willingly given,
When he promised his axe
For the protection of the quest,
And the guarding of the Fellowship.
His sorrow knew no bounds,
His anger unwillingly laid aside
When friend and guide was lost;
He would have given his life to avenge him
Had not his fellow warrior held him back.
His heart was great,
And willingly given
When the time came;
His pride was strong,
But willingly put aside
When he gazed into the heart of an enemy,
And saw a friend.
Dwarves, a race apart;
Yet one dwarf there was
Who pledged his life
For the defense of his friends.
Though less in stature
Than many a tall warrior,
No less his bravery or his daring;
No less his loyalty or his determination.
Gimli, son of Gloin, soon to be known as Elf-friend.
