Attack at Weathertop
Silver mist and fog surround,
Evil makes not single sound.
Twilight deepens into night,
Shadows rise to give them fright.
Flame alone keeps wraiths at bay,
Witch-king steps into the fray.
His pale face, a bony skull,
Deadly sword on Amon Sul.
Ring-bearer cries with fear and pain,
Saved by athelas, medicine of kings.