While I admit poetry is not my preferred form of writing I have really enjoyed pouring through the Lay of Leithian and even with some 4200+ rhyming lines I find it more epic and moving than sing-song child's play. I'll end with the very last lines as Beren bravely defends his love from Carcharoth, now awakened from his enchanted sleep:
"Too swift for thought his onset came,
too swift for any spell to tame;
and Beren desperate then aside
thrust Lúthien, and forth did stride
unarmed, defenceless to defend
Tinúviel to the end.
With left he caught at hairy throat,
with right hand at the eyes he smote--
his right, from which the radiance welled
of the holy Silmaril he held.
As gleam of swords in fire there flashed
the fangs of Carcharoth, and crashed
together like a trap, that tore
the hand about the wrist, and shore
through brittle bone and sinew nesh,
devouring the frail mortal flesh;
and in that cruel mouth unclean
engulfed the jewel's holy sheen"
(p. 307-308, The Lays of Beleriand).
Bravery bravery's sake in the face of impossible odds. Honor defined by keeping your word against impossible odds (Lúthien even suggest that she and Beren should run away together; but he had made a vow to Thingol). Love that is staunch, unfailing, and sacrificial. Beren and Lúthien.
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