O Rowan Fair
 
 O rowan fair, upon your hair how white the blossom lay! 
 O rowan mine, I saw you shine upon a summer's day, 
 Your rind so bright, your leaves so light, your voice so cool and soft: 
 Upon your head how golden-red the crown you bore aloft! 
 O rowan dead, upon your head your hair is dry and grey; 
 Your crown is spilled, your voice is stilled for ever and a day. 
 O Orofarnë, Lassemista, Carnimírië