Ten proud Noldor, they made a family,
convinced that surely fair the end would be,
though still one refused to follow on their errantry…
Nine proud Noldor, left to the Hither Lands,
high were the spirits and blood was on their hands.
Still one was left behind, on the jeweled sands…
Eight proud Noldor, when they burned their boats,
forgot to check if they all were on the road,
and so one of them got torched up with the loads…
Seven proud Noldor, all prepared to fight,
set out to conquer those pesky stones of light,
but in the fight of sudden flame the instigator died...
Six proud Noldor, by their oath condemned,
heard that in Doriath remained a shiny gem,
so they went to sack the place and doom was on to them.
Five proud Noldor, their deeds were quite insane,
they could not stop because they had a jewel to obtain,
and in the Halls of Menegroth one more of them was slain.
Four proud Noldor, they sort of won the fight,
but the phyrric victory didn't end their plight,
the silmaril was MIA and one more brother died.
Three proud Noldor, a band of disrepute,
heard of the place the gem was held and went in wild pursuit,
but while of them another fell, once more they got no loot.
Two proud Noldor, their situation dire,
after the war of wrath they heard of jewels to acquire,
they fought and won but burned their hands; one threw himself in fire.
One last Noldo, no more pride to boast,
cast away his gem in sea and roams along the coast,
while singing of the sad fate of the Noldor host.
Now hear this song and better think, twice before you swear,
a prideful oath can easily become a curse to bear.