Lúthien's house...

Instead of going on about Gaudete Sunday, which you'll find on almost any Catholic blog today, I thought I'd say more about the Lay of Leithian. When Beren departed from the Land of the Girdle, Lúthien became silent and would sing no more, and the heart of Thingol was troubled. When Beren with Felagund and company were ensnared by Sauron, an ill feeling came upon her, so that going to Melian her mother for counsel, she learned that he was a prisoner in Tol-in-Gaurhoth without hope of escape. She resolved, therefore, to go herself to rescue him, and she besought Daeron to give her aid, but he betrayed her purpose to the King. The Lay goes on:

In angry love and half in fear

Thingol took counsel his most dear

to guard and keep. He would not bind

in caverns deep and intertwined

sweet Lúthien, his lovely maid,

who robbed of air must wane and fade,

who ever must look upon the sky

and see the sun and moon go by.

But close unto his mounded seat

and grassy throne there ran the feet

of Hírilorn, the beechen queen.

Upon her triple boles were seen

no break or branch, until aloft

in a green glimmer, distant, soft,

the mightiest vault of leaf and bough

from world's beginning until now

was flung above Esgalduin's shores

and the long slopes to Thingol's doors.

Grey was the rind of pillars tall

and silken-smooth, and far and small

to squirrels' eyes were those who went

at her grey feet upon the bent.

Now Thingol made men in the beech,

in that great tree, as far as reach

their longest ladders, there to build

an airy house; and as he willed

a little dwelling of fair wood

was made, and veiled in leaves it stood

above the first branches. Corners three

it had and windows faint to see,

and by three shafts of Hírilorn

in corners standing was upborne.

There Lúthien was bidden dwell,

until she was wiser and the spell

of madness was left her. Up she clomb

the long ladders to her new home

among the leaves, among the birds;

she sang no song, she spoke no words.

While glimmering in the tree she rose,

and her little door they heard her close.

The ladders were taken and no more

her feet might tread Esgalduin's shore.