Beyond the Doors of the Night - Númenor

In Habbanan beneath the skies

Where all roads end however long

There is a sound of faint guitars

And distant echoes of a song

For there men gather into rings

Round their red fires while one voice sings —

And all about is night

A globe of dark glass faceted with light

Wherein the splendid winds have dusky flight;

Untrodden spaces of an odorous plain

That watches for the moon that long has lain

Not night as ours, unhappy folk

Where nigh the Earth in hazy bars

A mist about the springing of the stars

There trails a thin and wandring smoke

Obscuring with its veil half-seen

The grat abysmal still Serene