Leaving behind still half-imagined things,
old plots that never saw the light of day,
your death has ushered lovers on their way
to find where bright Earendil won the wings
that flew his fairy vessel to the stars.
And while we wander dim, unfinished schemes
we find you sent us questing for our dreams -
now our imagination knows no bars.
The half-told story leaves our hearts to long,
and though you planned to totally revise
your wonder-world to more familiar skies,
the sunless years of starlight are our song;
for Elbereth knew nothing of the sun,
when first our raptured mannish hearts were won.