Beneath The Boughs of Inviolate Forest

Beneath the boughs of the Forest Inviolate
All the earth sings, and all the moss sighs,
Bathed in the blaze of the falling sunlight
Turned to emerald by the rustling leaves,
Turned to jade by the dreaming of jade,
The dreaming of emerald, in the Forest Inviolate.

Beneath the boughs of Inviolate Forest,
The blazebirds strut, with their white tails
Shaking like falls of snow in the midst of summer,
Shaking with a sound like bells in the youth
Of the world, when all was calm still,
Untroubled by bells, in Inviolate Forest.

Beneath the boughs of the Forest Inviolate,
Trees stand whose red leaves birth fire,
Fire that is needed, or may be, in the world without,
But here is no more than a curious relic
And a reminder of scarlet when scarlet dims,
Here is no more than that, in the Forest Inviolate.

Beneath the boughs of Inviolate Forest,
The world is still singing with the peace of youth,
Still sighing like the flow of cold water
Into springs in the far north, untroubled by Destria
Or the Bane of Silver, all the weight of the world,
Like water in chiming springs, in Inviolate Forest.

Beneath the boughs of the Forest Inviolate, 
There is no hint of the violence of Violet,
Of the Purple Fire that wreaked its sharp changes,
Or of any change at all, undesired by Elwens,
By Rodollen's Children, who live and dwell there,
Of any change at all undesired, in the Forest Inviolate.

Beneath the boughs of Inviolate Forest, 
There are still deer wandering white as stars,
White as the milk that flows from their teats
To nourish young that gaze with soft golden eyes
On the outheld hands of green-eyed forest Elwens,
The full-nourished young, in Inviolate Forest.

Beneath the boughs of the Forest Inviolate,
The clearing is still, as it will always be,
A small moat of water surrounding the Tree,
The Sacrifice remembered, Rodollen unchanging,
Ever unfree from the cares of his people,
The free-given Sacrifice, in the Forest Inviolate.

Beneath the boughs of Inviolate Forest,
Still he will come forth with the leaves in his hair,
The leaves of many centuries as Elwen and tree,
And shining green eyes, and voice tuned to song,
And still he listens to prayers, and gives his help,
With shining green eyes, in Inviolate Forest.

Beneath the boughs of the Forest Inviolate,
We dwell and we sing, without pain or fear,
Without a change of heart from the world,
Where the wolf may prey, and the deer die-
But such things are, and will always be,
The hunt of the wolf, in the Forest Inviolate.

Beneath the boughs of Inviolate Forest,
We go dreaming into sunlight and shadow,
Into sunlight turned green by dreaming leaves,
On carpets of moss walking and singing softly,
Our songs long liquid falls of words, or wordless,
On carpets of moss, in Inviolate Forest.

Beneath the boughs of the Forest Inviolate,
We remember still how the light came forth,
The green light that raised all trees and flowers,
Pouring from his hands, to birth the Forest,
The hands of Rodollen, who after took tree-form,
With leaves for hands, in the Forest Inviolate.

Beneath the boughs of Inviolate Forest,
Still he dwells, and we dwell singing with him,
Singing and dreaming, as untouched Elwens should,
Gazing at the stars through the gaps in the leaves,
Dancing in the sunlight and in the pure moonlight,
Singing to the stars, in Inviolate Forest.