Spring in Doriath by Himring

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Chapter 1


When Daeron sounds the flute,
who could stay mute?
To our delight,
he pipes now day and night.
Now our Nightingale
dances in the dale,
soaring as a lark does in the sky.
Merrily, merrily,
they welcome in the year.

Girl and boy,
are full of joy,
great and small,
Thingol tall—
every voice
makes a glad noise.
Birds also,
woodcock, crow—
merrily, merrily,
we welcome in the year.


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