Passing To The Elfmother: A Lament
               A Funeral Song Of The Elves
               As Heard By Maruss Freewind
    Now the long journey at long last is done,
    And you go to your rest like the setting sun.
    Your last bed is not in the glorious west.
    It is the grave and my voice which sing you to rest.

    And it is earth, the mother of us all,
    Which has spun among the stars beyond recall,
    Which cradles you and pillows you and calls you away,
    That you may open your eyes on some hidden new day.

    The sight of my eyes may fail me too soon,
    But I think not to meet you again under moon,
    Or under the sun, or the stars' pale fire,
    And not all my pleading will grant my desire.

    What did you think, when was spilled the red?
    Did you have a moment when you knew you were dead?
    Do you feel my eyes now, hear my lament,
    Or have you already passed to where you were sent?

    The Keeper holds wide the wide crystal door.
    All that passes it is seen nevermore.
    Must you go? I must whisper in pain.
    But whatever my wishes, the Elfmother's are plain.

    Pass away, pass away, like the flowing river waters.
    So the Elfmother tells all her sons and daughters.
    Pass away to darkness, or a joyous land?
    All I know is you pass beyond reach of my hand.

    Elfson welcome you, and sing you to sleep,
    As you walk on the diamond stairs through the deep
    Darkness of the endlessly moving Keeper's Way.
    Elfmother grant us reunion someday.