Some will come to loot the golden tomb, to break and batter, blood-sealed rooms;
Others will come to piously pray, within the dark and sheltered ways;
But most, to grief, they will surely go with sundered souls and their lives all spent.
For stalking here silent and grim, guardians from eternity's rim;
To hell these ways for Elven kind til the end of the ALL, the end of time.
Writ, in truth, on their hearts in fire, the words of command from their sire.
Oh ye fools who seek the golden of the Elven tombs of yesterold,
for fame and glory yet never to leave will some of your story.
This Elven hold is guarded most fell, so before ye would enter think it over most well --
I bid you pass.