The seasons spun with ponderous pace
From Summer to Spring, and the fiery forge
Roared red-hot in a hollow hall
Where metal's might was shaped by skill,
Where anvil sang
-- where bellows hissed --
-- and heavy hammers rang. --

And Fèhaglin, furtive, with soft-paced steps
Lurked where the lord was wont to walk,
In sunlight strolling, head to head,
Closely consulting Annatar's ambassador.
And her Elven ears
-- heard what they said --
-- as she listened near. --

'If our friendship is firm, we stand established,
'strong and sure. My lord would ally
'his crown to your cause, securing your strength
'Should rivals arise. As sign and seal
'Will he give you a ring
-- 'potent with power.' --
-- 'And one more thing -- ' --

The ambassador added, with whispering words:
'My lord by your leave, a matter to mark:
'Lord Sauron has stated, and so it is certain:
'That elf once escaped my Potentate's prisons;'
'His features remind him
-- 'Of unfinished business --
-- 'He would put behind him.' --

The grim lord grinned, his sharp teeth shining.
'I need him now, nor would it be wise
'To give a guest into hostile hands.'
'Yet robbers are rife; when he leaves my lands
'Would any think it strange
-- 'Were he caught by ambush --
-- 'Covertly arranged?' --