The complete lay of "The Fall of Gil-galad"?

[Akallabeth]

Ever since I first read The Lord of the Rings, I have wondered about the full version of "The Fall of Gil-galad." Sam only recites the beginning of this lay in The Fellowship of the Ring:

Gil-galad was an Even-king.
Of him the harpers sadly sing:
the last whose realm was fair and free
between the Mountains and the Sea.

His sword was long, his lance was keen,
his shining helm afar was seen;
the countless stars of heaven's field
were mirrored in his silver shield.

But long ago he rode away,
and where he dwelleth none can say;
for into darkness fell his star
in Mordor where the shadows are.

But there was never anymore. I came across more of Gil-galad in The Silmarillion (which I have yet to finish), but nowhere could I find the rest of that lay.

 

[Niniel]

Tolkien never wrote any more of it, unfortunately. There are more of these poems of which he only gives names, or a few verses, but that are never finished.

 

[Akallabeth]

I thought as much, but I suppose it never hurts to ask. Ah well, we can read in prose about Gil-galad anyway. Thank you, Niniel.

 

[KeatsMuse480]

I worked on an appendium to the poem about a year ago, but abandoned it for reasons of preservation. I'll dig the canto out sometime in the near future and post it, but I believe Tolkien would like the poem's contents to remain obscure. Or, at least "pure." The song contains a number of bardic qualities, however, such as poetic songs are proscribed. This is the approach I took in appending what was available on the matter. Songs change over time. I imagine that Professor Tolkien would have expanded it if he hadn't abandoned the "Rings" sequel.

Life would be vain if not subject to the inevitable obscurity of time. Personally, that is a veil I would rather admire than lift. As the great Romantic poet Keats suggested, "[The sweetest melodies are those unheard.]" What is the purpose of imagination if all is set before us with Phoebus' clarity?

Interesting subject!

No doubt the Sackville Bagginses stole the poem from Bilbo's study!

 

[Gil-Galad the Elvin king]

My brother created and published 15 more sections of the poem:
In middle earth alliance made, the splendour of which will never fade. Of Elves and Dwarves and Mortal man: a great labour then began.

Forged then was sword and blade, under the mountain they were made, in the deeps they were put away, in such places long did they stay.

Many warriors did they need, much counsel did they heed, the muster of the people's great, preparing to assault the Gate.

They worked tirelessly, without ceasing. The time remaining ever decreasing. Hammer on anvil day after day; crafting weapons and armor for to slay.

"Let us march" came the call,"Let us hope that none will fall". Riding into southern lands. Each soldier heeding the king's commands.

From Rivendell to Lothlorien in all its glamour; Elves of the Havens amd men of Arnor; those of Minas Tirith, fashioned after Gondalin of Beleriand, their union ever nearer to the lands under Sauron's hand.

Coming slowly, there ever more the Dwarves of Khazad-Dum strode through it's door. From Moria the great and the strong. They came, the line of warriors ever long.

Indeed at last, a great force was amassed. Skilled at war; ready for peace. Honing their skills they never did cease.

The alliance came to Morrannon, to those treacherous fields to battle on: to Dagorlad, plain of the dead Gil-Galad and Elendil at the head.

The force came upon quietly. Soldiers as far as the eye could see. All about was silent and still; no noise came from that wretched hill.

Elven blades alive with blue; flying banners of many hue. No sound of drum nor trill of flute; no heavy stomp of Orkish boot.

In the eerie and foreboding wind, with all hearts wishing to recind; The earth beneath them began to slowly shake, and the deeps began to break.

In the ground a fierce rumble grew, from the Evil Mountain fire blew. Far above a screech they heard; from above the nazgul flew.

Descending upon them a net of fear, tightening around them,"They are here!" akin to the sound of Carcharoth's roar the scream upon them brought great horror.

But Gil-Galad the mighty king a song before the cowering men he did sing. A song of hope and courage and might; his powerful words echoed into the night.