Any chance that Gil-Gandel would give me a few pointers (or even better, a song) to help get my garden growing?
All in good time, but first:
Gil-Gandel is again dressed as on his arrival at the house of Bombadil, and goes to the Mounds in full panoply of arms, mounted on Cúran who stands in perfect silence while his master sings. He bears his harp but does not play it during the following song.
Deor and those of the Rohirrim who have heard him sing before notice a change in his voice since they last heard it. To them it suggests the difference between, on the one hand a graceful maid on a well-trained pony, skilled at the jumps and in dressage; and on the other, a young man lately come to his knighthood on a charger that was yet a colt when the leaves were falling - both on the verge of the days of their glory and strength, and yet only a foretaste of what they shall be when the knight is full seasoned and tried in arms, and his mount a chief of the Mearas. Once Gil-Gandel was an archer who knew how to tune a stave; now he is truly a Singer of the Grey Elves, though yet to attain the full measure of his art.
*He was not born to sit upon the throne,
But bear his arms, White Horse upon green field,
And learn the use of lance and sword and shield
And make the code of chivalry his own.
Walk with solemn step and slow:
The King of the Mark is gone below.
When serpent tongue deceived the King his Lord
And plunged the Golden Hall into despair
He warded well from harm his sister fair
And kept her virtue safe behind his sword.
Sing as sadly as ye know:
The King of the Mark is gone below.
He led his knights, though banished from the Hall,
And suffered not to walk on Rohan’s soil
The Orcs who came to plunder and despoil
But met with battle - slew them one and all.
Bow your head exceeding low:
The King of the Mark is gone below.
With knightly trust he served the Hunters Three;
Gave horses, news, and set them on their way,
And saw with them the great and glorious day
When daybreak at Helm’s Deep was fair to see!
Let women’s eyes their moisture show:
The King of the Mark is gone below.
At Mundburg field to him there fell the crown -
From King to King it passed and did not fail -
And over Mordor’s hosts he did prevail
And led the Riders to their great renown.
Gaze where winter blossoms grow:
The King of the Mark is gone below.
For sixty years aye Gondor’s friend at need,
Of open hand, well-spoken, full of grace,
Wise, courteous, kindly, kingly, fair of face
And ever eager for some knightly deed.
News afar the four winds blow:
The King of the Mark is gone below.
Loved, named in awe, respected by his peers,
Of mighty sires himself a mighty son
He goes to rest full fairly earned and won
For measured is his royal count of years.
Sword be bright and honour true:
The King of the Mark is crowned anew!*
At last Gil-Gandel strikes his harp in triumphant fanfare and cries words that no man can understand. He puts forth a measure of the power that Tom has taught him and evokes an image of Eomer in the days of his pomp and might, armed, armoured and mounted. The shining figure - so unlike a ghost in that it inspires love, grief and joy in equal measure, but no horror - salutes the company and departs, breaking into a headlong gallop towards the western hills where the Sun is setting in a blaze of gold.
The news of Gil-Gandel’s magnificent lament for King Eomer reaches Ghân (still patiently plodding South towards the reunion with his party).
When Ghân has the time, he will be happy to help Deor with Plant Growth.
Well done, Malacandra! Bravo, bravo. Well worth the wait.