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By Root 968 0

scarcely bear up even upon their godlike shoulders that great globe of flame and were tottering beneath it. Hearing their anger indeed Aulë stayed, saying: “Cease ye of little wisdom and have a patience,” but even with those words his foot went astray and he stumbled, and even Tulkas might not bear that fruit alone, so that it fell, and striking stony ground burst asunder. Straightway such a blinding radiance leapt forth as even the full bloom of Laurelin had not yielded of old, and the darkened eyes of the Vali were dazzled so that they fell back stunned; but a pillar of light rose from that place smiting the heavens that the stars paled above it and the face of Taniquetil went red afar off, and Aulë alone of all those there was unmoved by sorrow. Then said Aulë: “Of this can I make a ship of light—surpassing even the desire of Manwë,” and now Varda and many others, even Vána, understood his purpose and were glad. But they made a mighty corbel of twisted gold, and strewing it with ardent petals of its own bloom they laid therein the halves of the fruit of noon and uplifting it with many hands bore it away with much singing and great hope. Then coming to the courts of Aulë they set it down, and thereupon began the great smithying of the Sun; and this was the most cunning-marvellous of all the works of Aulë Talkamarda, whose works are legion. Of that perfect rind a vessel did he make, diaphanous and shining, yet of a tempered strength, for with spells of his own he overcame its brittleness, nor in any way was its subtle delicacy thereby diminished.

Now the most ardent radiance poured therein neither spilled nor dimmed, nor did that vessel receive any injury therefrom, yet would it swim the airs more lightly than a bird; and Aulë was overjoyed, and he fashioned that vessel like a great ship broad of beam, laying one half of the rind within the other so that its strength might not be broken.

There follows an account of how Vána, repenting of her past murmurings, cut short her golden hair and gave it to the Gods, and from her hair they wove sails and ropes ‘more strong than any mariner hath seen, yet of the slenderness of gossamer’. The masts and spars of the ship were all of gold.

Then that the Ship of the Heavens might be made ready unto the last, the unfading petals of the latest flower of Laurelin were gathered like a star at her prow, and tassels and streamers of glancing light were hung about her bulwarks, and a flash of lightning was caught in her mast to be a pennant; but all that vessel was filled to the brim with the blazing radiance of gold Kulullin and mingled therein drops of the juices of the fruit of noon, and these were very hot, and thereafter scarcely might the bosom of the Earth withhold her, and she leapt at her cords like a captive bird that listeth for the airs.

Then did the Gods name that ship, and they called her Sári which is the Sun, but the Elves Ûr which is fire;12 but many other names does she bear in legend and in poesy. The Lamp of Vána is she named among the Gods in memory of Vána’s tears and her sweet tresses that she gave; and the Gnomes call her Galmir the goldgleamer13 and Glorvent the ship of gold, and Bráglorin the blazing vessel, and many a name beside; and her names among Men no man has counted them.

Behold now it is to be told how while that galleon was a-building others nigh to where the Two Trees once grew fashioned a great bason and folk laboured mightily at it. Its floor they made of gold and its walls of polished bronze, and an arcade of golden pillars topped with fires engirdled it, save only on the East; but Yavanna set a great and nameless spell around it, so that therein was poured the most of the waters of the fruit of noon and it became a bath of fire. Indeed is it not called Tanyasalpë, the bowl of fire, even Faskalanúmen, the Bath of the Setting Sun, for here when Urwendi after returned from the East and the first sunset came on Valinor the ship was drawn down and its radiance refreshed against new voyagings on the morrow while the Moon held High Heaven.

Now the