A graceful scent, its sweet array,
Began to close him in<
When he knew not where he walked
His feet followed the wind

As he began to sing a song
Softly to the trees
His voice was carried throughout
And mind was left at ease

An elven maiden passed him by
Who seemed to him a dream
"Tinúviel, Tinúviel!" he cried
She smiled, turning back to him

Dark hair swayed in the breeze
With eyes like silver gems
Her beauty she possessed freely
And her trailing dress of elven hem