Hoping that he would not get too frightened at this solemn moment, in front of these people, Oin stood up and recited a song, in memorium of the War of the Ring:
The War of the Rings was long and hard,
Telling of sadness, death and despair
To hear it well requires a bard,
Which, among Dwarves, are scarce and rare
The War of the Ring
The War of the Finding
The Dwarves do remember
And tell of the Binding
Our songs do remember
The tales of the few
Who battled and fought,
For the sake of the new.
For the sake of all people
Did our fighters prevail,
And hold up the banner
Of victory un-stale
The songs do sing
Of the Dwarf in the Keep
Who fought with the Elf
On the walls of Helm’s Deep
In the Coomb, they fought
In Rohan, Riddermark
Where many men fell,
Staving off the Dark
They fell with pride,
In what they had done,
For none could tarnish
The victory they’d won.
Though my song doth fail
To proclaim the worth and merit
Of the People who earned such
And did not live to wear it.
I sing it for those,
Who fell in the Finding,
In the battles most terrible
In the War of the Ring!!
He knew the song was poor, and ungainly, yet the words he had used brought to his mind all the battles and skirmishes in the War. Some of the people murmured and whispered to each other about the song.
"What do you think?" he asked the small crowd of the bard, the man named Liornung, and the maiden who was right fair. "My song is not as good as yon bard's but what is your opinion?"