Elegy for Boromir, Steward of Gondor by Himring

Chapter 1

I was experimenting with interweaving poetry and prose here, in the form of a textual collage.

The speaker might perhaps be an admirer of Boromir among the Rohirrim, some years after Boromir's death, perhaps a loremaster teaching students.

Where now are the horse and the rider, and is it worth the knowing? 
Boromir was a great captain; even the Witch-king feared him.
Where are the helm and the hauberk, where the horn I heard blowing? 
He was noble and fair of face, a man strong in body and in will.
Alas for the splendour of the prince and the sable hair flowing! 
He inherited a realm under siege.
Alas for the mailed warrior!

Boromir fought to win back the land, but Ithilien remained depopulated.
Where are sowing and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
Osgiliath was finally ruined and its stone bridge was broken.
Where are the revels in the hall and the red fire glowing?
Alas for the giver of treasure!

He received a wound in that war and became shrunken with pain.
Alas for the weary warrior and the heart’s steady slowing!
He died twelve years after his father and was followed by his son Cirion.
Wanderers coming and going—
years met in tears, and time did the mowing.
Still the hand on the harp string!

Chapter End Notes

Sources:

Boromir's biography in Tolkien, LOTR Appendix A (as quoted by Tolkien Gateway), and (for the elegiac verse passages) Tolkien's adaptation of the Anglo-Saxon alliterative poem The Wanderer in LOTR as well as a prose translation of The Wanderer (as quoted in Wikipedia) plus individual lines by Charlotte Mew and Tennyson.

A belated response during B2MeM 2012 to assorted prompts I had already dropped.