In Book II, Chapter I of The Lord of the Rings, the "Lay of Eärendil" is sung by Bilbo Baggins in Rivendell. But the published version is not the final text, as Christopher Tolkien explains in The Treason of Isengard, Volume VII of The History of Middle-earth. The version that was mislaid is almost published by Christopher, as he gives individual stanzas and lines and remarks here and there that the missing text is "As in FR [The Fellowship of the Ring]". The reconstructed poem follows in its entirety.

No Livro II, Capítulo I do Senhor dos Anéis, a "Balada de Eärendil" é cantada por Bilbo Bolseiro em Valfenda. Mas a versão publicada não é o texto final, como Christopher Tolkien explica em The Treason of Isengard, Volume VII de The History of Middle-earth. A versão que se extraviou é quase publicada por Christopher, pois ele dá estrofes e versos individuais, e observa aqui e ali que o texto faltante é "Como em SA [A Sociedade do Anel]". O poema reconstruído segue-se de forma completa.

Eärendil was a mariner

that tarried in Arvernien:

he built a boat of timber felled

in Nimbrethil to journey in.

Her sails he wove of silver fair,

with silver were her banners sewn;

her prow he fashioned like the swans

that white upon the Falas roam.

His coat that came from ancient kings

of chainéd rings was forged of old;

his shining shield all wounds defied,

with runes entwined of dwarven gold.

His bow was made of dragon-horn,

his arrows shorn of ebony,

of triple steel his habergeon,

his scabbard of chalcedony;

his sword was like a flame in sheath,

with gems was wreathed his helmet tall,

an eagle-plume upon his crest,

upon his breast an emerald.

Beneath the Moon and under star

he wandered far from northern strands,

bewildered on enchanted ways

beyond the days of mortal lands.

From gnashing of the Narrow Ice

where shadow lies on frozen hills,

from nether heats and burning waste

he turned in haste, and roving still

on starless waters far astray

at last he came to Night of Naught,

and passed, and never sight he saw

of shining shore nor light he sought.

The winds of fear came driving him,

and blindly in the foam he fled

from west to east and errandless,

unheralded he homeward sped.

In might the Fëanorians

that swore the unforgotten oath

brought war into Arvernien

with burning and with broken troth;

and Elwing from her fastness dim

then cast her in the waters wide,

but like a mew was swiftly borne,

uplifted o’er the roaring tide.

Through hopeless night she came to him,

and flame was in the darkness lit,

more bright than light of diamond

the fire upon her carcanet.

The Silmaril she bound on him,

and crowned him with the living light,

and dauntless then with burning brow

he turned his prow at middle-night.

Beyond the world, beyond the Sea,

then strong and free a storm arose,

a wind of power in Tarmenel;

by paths that seldom mortal goes

from Middle-earth on mighty breath

as flying wraith across the grey

and long-forsaken seas distressed

from East to West he passed away.

Through Evernight he back was borne

on black and roaring waves that ran

o’er leagues unlit and foundered shores

that drowned before the Days began,

until he heard on strands of pearl

where ends the world the music long,

where ever-foaming billows roll

the yellow gold and jewels wan.

He saw the Mountain silent rise

where twilight lies upon the knees

of Valinor, and Eldamar

beheld afar beyond the seas.

A wanderer escaped from night

to haven white he came at last,

to Elvenhome the green and fair

where keen the air, where pale as glass

beneath the Hill of Ilmarin

a-glimmer in a valley sheer

the lamplit towers of Tirion

are mirrored on the Shadowmere.

He tarried there from errantry,

and melodies they taught to him,

and sages old him marvels told,

and harps of gold they brought to him.

They clothed him then in elven-white,

and seven lights before him sent,

as through the Calacirian

to hidden land forlorn he went.

He came unto the timeless halls

where shining fall the countless years,

and endless reigns the Elder King

for ever king on mountain sheer;

and words unheard were spoken then

of folk of Men and Elven-kin,

beyond the world were visions showed

forbid to those that dwell therein.

A ship then new they built for him

of mithril and of elvenglass

with crystal keel; no shaven oar

nor sail she bore, on silver mast

the Silmaril as lantern light

and banner bright with living flame

of fire unstained by Elbereth

herself was set, who thither came

and wings immortal made for him,

and laid on him undying doom,

to sail the shoreless skies and come

behind the Sun and light of Moon.

From Evereven’s lofty hills

where softly silver fountains fall

his wings him bore, a wandering light,

beyond the mighty Mountain Wall.

From World’s End then he turned away,

and yearned again to find afar

his home through shadows journeying,

and burning as an island star

on high above the mists he came,

a distant flame before the Sun,

a wonder ere the waking dawn

where grey the Norland waters run.

And over Middle-earth he passed

and heard at last the weeping sore

of women and of elven-maids

in Elder Days, in years of yore.

But on him mighty doom was laid,

till Moon should fade, an orbéd star

to pass, and tarry never more

on Hither Shores where mortals are;

till end of Days on errand high,

a herald bright that never rests,

to bear his burning lamp afar,

the Flammifer of Westernesse.