The Host of the West Comes To Arda Marred
How can the words a humble elf might say
Possibly explain the terror and triumph of those days
When over the troubled Sea came our relief
Not a storm, no, but a movement of greatness
More terrific than a phalanx of mighty Eagles
Do I have the words? I must try to tell
Hail the Valar! See their faces!
Youth and beauty have seen no fairer manifestation
In form like us, the Children of Eru
But their Aspects blaze about them
And they would be fearsome if not so valourous!
Aulë the Mastersmith, his features are reddened by fire not fury
In his hands swings Angainor that he forged for the chaining of his brother
And which held him for three Ages in Valinor, now to become his leash
Ulmo I see, and I tremble to behold him
His ire at Morgoth for the suffering of the Children is very great
And each tear that has been shed, each drop of sweat or blood
Feeds his strength and sharpens his song
Tulkas strides beside Aulë, and he is clad in strength
Long has he waited for this confrontation
Can you hear him laughing with delight?
Oromë comes riding, foam frothing at his mount's hooves
Hounds swarming at his sides like the eager tide
His horn is silent at the now, but just wait!
Eonwë is there as well, the right hand of Manwë, and he rides the air
Above the hosts, his face as noble as a sunrise
Wings of ardent silver frame hispresence
And an army of Eagles fly in his wake
Nienna comes, gentle and beatific,
I am surprised to see here there, but I should not be
For with all acts of justice should pity be exercised
And though her tears flow already for those who will fall in the battle,
she is girded for war and will not turn away
And there is a host of Maiar, clad in all manner of forms
Fire and rain, wind, lightning, and laughter
Too numerous to fully note, to majestic to forget!
Behind them comes in a massive host
The Vanyar, bearing weapons and banners like a field of stars
Their voices filling the air with a song that brings my heart to my throat!
And this is but the beginning...