Ancalagon the fire-drake flew high, and his cry was a flaming roar.
He would snatch defeat from the victors’ jaws to protect his master’s shore.
The fire-drakes swooped to: kill, destroy. Morgroth bade them attack.
They follow their captain, the largest drake – Ancalagon the Black.
With a roar of flame, then – the dragons came! Valar’s host looked up aghast
As the aerial death descended. Was this battle-day their last?
The dragons made a last onslaught – exacting a payment high
As the Valar’s elves made a forced retreat. They’d fight back – well, they’d try.
So with claw and flame on the dragons came, swooping down into the attack
And Ancalagon led the onrush – their war-fortunes were tipping back!
But the Valar also summoned aid: soon the skies were filled anew
With vast winged hosts of another kind! And to the Valar’s aid, these flew.
Comes Vingilot! Comes Eärendil! From his brows shone a searing flame
Of the Silmaril! That dismayed the drakes! But the elves cried out his name!
Grim Ancalagon sees. And with aspect fierce he roared out his command
And the drakes flew up to confront their foes in the skies far above the land.
Dives Thorondor like a meteor! The Eagle King screamed as he came
Shredding dragon wings, dropping drake corpses to the earth – all bleeding flame!
Then the eagles dove while the fire-drakes roared: and their thunders shook all the earth.
While elves anxious watched from the land below. Who as victor would come forth?
All that day, all that night, still the conflict raged – without stay, without rest, to the death.
For the ones who lost would no mercy know: so all fought to their final breath.
And their blood rained down like a living rain – this the elves of the Valar saw;
Watching all the while as the battle swayed to and fro in the aerial war.
Eärendil then clove Ancalagon – dragon blood splashing on his sword
While Vingilot struck like a falling star – and the drake in his pain roared!
Then Ancalagon answered with deadly flame: and a fireball engulfs the boat.
All the Valar groaned. But the Silmaril, then blazed forth near the dragon’s throat:
As Eärendil on the prow stands up: hacking deep as he hewed away
At the dragon’s neck. The drake howls in pain like an angered beast at bay!
Eärendil thrust on, while Ancalagon, with a jaw-full of wicked teeth
Snaps to tear the mast, as his razor-claws raked at Vingilot’s hull underneath.
But too late! For the death-thrust robs him of life! His black throat is near torn in two!
The huge corpse drops down like an avalanche: Eärendil the drake overthrew!
Proud Thangorodrim shatters in the fall: crushed to powder and standing stones
Littered with dead drakes – their fire now quenched. Mountain corpses of dragon-bones.
Angband took apart. Morgorth on his face flung down and cast into chains:
His kingdom destroyed. His slaves all set free. For a time now the darkness wanes.
So his black captain – dead Ancalagon – is no more, just a shattered shell –
A mute testament to the winds of Time: of the day that the Dark Lord fell.
Tolkien Tribute 