The Sentinel stands atop his post

He guards the valley low

His sword aside in a scabbard of frost

His helm and cloak are covered in snow

 

He guards the valley low

His beard a forest of great green pines

His helm and cloak are covered in snow

The Sentinel’s eyes stare ahead in straight lines

 

His beard a forest of great green pines

His expression is formed of stone

The Sentinel’s eyes stare ahead in straight lines

The Sentinel stands and guards alone

 

His expression is formed of stone

His sword aside in a scabbard of frost

The Sentinel stands and guards alone

The Sentinel stands atop his post