“Each day before the end of eve
she sought her lover nor would him leave,
until the stars were dimmed and day
came glimmering eastward silver-grey.
Then trembling-veiled she would appear
and dance before him, half in fear-
there flitting just before his feet
she gently chid with laughter sweet:
‘Come! dance now, Beren, dance with me!
For fain thy dancing I would see!’ ”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Book of Lost Tales

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