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and yet his mood with strange unease<br />
is filled, and boding thoughts him seize.<br />
‘What grievous terror, what dread guard<br />
hath Morgoth set to wait, and barred<br />
his doors against all entering feet?<br />
Long ways we have come at last to meet<br />
the very maw of death that opes<br />
between us and our quest! Yet hopes<br />
we never had. No turning back!’<br />
Thus Beren speaks, as in his track<br />
he halts and sees with werewolf eyes<br />
afar the horror that there lies.<br />
Then onward desperate he passed,<br />
skirting the black pits yawning vast,<br />
where King Fingolfin ruinous fell<br />
alone before the gates of hell.<br />
Before those gates alone they stood,<br />
while Carcharoth in doubtful mood<br />
glowered upon them, and snarling spoke,<br />
and echoes in the arches woke:<br />
‘Hail! Draugluin, my kindred’s lord!<br />
’Tis very long since hitherward<br />
thou camest. Yea, ’tis passing strange<br />
to see thee now: a grievous change<br />
is on thee, lord, who once so dire<br />
so dauntless, and as fleet as fire,<br />
ran over wild and waste, but now<br />
with weariness must bend and bow!<br />
’Tis hard to find the struggling breath<br />
when Huan’s teeth as sharp as death<br />
have rent the throat? What fortune rare<br />
brings thee back living here to fare—<br />
if Draugluin thou art? come near!<br />
I would know more, and see thee clear!’<br />
‘Who art thou, hungry upstart whelp,<br />
to bar my ways whom thou shouldst help?<br />
I fare with hasty tidings new<br />
to Morgoth from forest-haunting Thû.<br />
Aside! for I must in; or go<br />
and swift my coming tell below!’<br />
1500<br />
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Then up that doorward slowly stood,
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