Then said Aulл: “The task ye set me is of the utmost difficulty, yet will I do all that I may therein,” and he begged the aid of Varda the starfashioner, and those twain departed and were lost in the gloom a great while.

The narrative continues with an account of the failure of Aulл and Varda to devise any substance that was not ‘too gross to swim the airs or too frail to bear the radiance of Kulullin’ and when this was made known Vбna and Lуrien asked that, since Manwл’s design had failed, he should command Yavanna to attempt the healing of the Trees.

At length therefore did Manwл bid Yavanna to put forth her power, and she was loath, but the clamour of the folk constrained her, and she begged for some of the radiance of white and gold; but of this would Manwл and Aulл spare only two small phials, saying that if the draught of old had power to heal the Trees already had they been blooming, for Vбna and Lуrien had poured it unstintingly upon their roots. Then sorrowfully Yavanna stood upon the plain and her form trembled and her face was very pale for the greatness of the effort that her being put forth, striving against fate. The phial of gold she held in her right hand and the silver in her left, and standing between the Trees she lifted them on high, and flames of red and of white arose from each like flowers, and the ground shook, and the earth opened, and a growth of flowers and plants leapt up therefrom about her feet, white and blue about her left side and red and gold about her right, and the Gods sat still and in amaze. Then going she cast each phial upon its proper Tree and sang the songs of unfading growth and a song of resurrection after death and withering; and suddenly she sang no more. Midway she stood between the Trees and utter silence fell, then there was a great noise heard and none knew what passed, but Palъrien lay swooning on the Earth; but many leapt beside her and raised her from the ground, and she trembled and was afraid.

“Vain, O children of the Gods,” she cried, “is all my strength. Lo, at your desire I have poured my pow1er upon the Earth like water, and like water the Earth has sucked it from me—it is gone and I can do no more.” And the Trees stood still gaunt and stark, and all the companies wept beholding her, but Manwл said: “Weep not, O children of the Gods, the irreparable harm, for many fair deeds may be yet to do, and beauty hath not perished on the earth nor all the counsels of the Gods been turned to nought” but nonetheless folk left that place in sorrow, save Vбna only, and she clung to the bole of Laurelin and wept.

Now was the time of faintest hope and darkness most profound fallen on Valinor that was ever yet; and still did Vбna weep, and she twined her golden hair about the bole of Laurelin and her tears dropped softly at its roots; and even as the dew of her gentle love touched that tree, behold, a sudden pale gleam was born in those dark places. Then gazed Vбna in wonder, and even where her first tears fell a shoot sprang from Laurelin, and it budded, and the buds were all of gold, and there came light therefrom like a ray of sunlight beneath a cloud.

Then sped Vбna a little way out upon the plain, and she lifted up her sweet voice with all her power and it came trembling faintly to the gates of Valmar, and all the Valar heard. Then said Уmar: “’Tis the voice of Vбna’s lamentation,” but Salmar said: “Nay, listen more, for rather is there joy in that sound,” and all that stood by hearkened, and the words they heard were I · kal’ antъlien, Light hath returned.

Loud then was the murmur about the streets of Valmar, and folk sped thronging over the plain, and when they beheld Vбna beneath the Tree and the new shoot of gold then suddenly did a song of very mighty praise and joy burst forth on every tongue; and Tulkas said: “Lo, mightier have the spells of Yavanna proved than her foretelling!” But Yavanna gazing upon Vбna’s face said: “Alas, ’tis not so, for in this have my spells played but a lesser part, and more potent has the gentle love of Vбna been and her falling tears a dew more healing and more tender than all the radiance of old: yet as for my foretelling, soon wilt thou see, O Tulkas, if thou dost but watch.”

Then did all the folk gaze on Laurelin, and behold, those buds opened and put forth leaves, and these were of finest gold and of other kind to those of old, and even as they watched the branch bore golden blossom, and it was thronged with flowers. Now as swiftly as its blossoms opened full it seemed a gust of wind came suddenly and shook them from their slender stems, blowing them about the heads of those that watched like jets of fire, and folk thought there was evil in that; but many of the Eldar chased those shining petals far and wide and gathered them in baskets, yet save such as were of golden threads or of other metals these might not contain those ardent blooms and were all consumed and burnt, that the petals were lost again.

One flower there was however greater than the others, more shining, and more richly golden, and it swayed to the winds but fell not; and it grew, and as it grew of its own radiant warmth it fructified. Then as its petals fell and were treasured a fruit there was of great beauty hanging from that bough of Laurelin, but the leaves of the bough grew sere and they shrivelled and shone no more. Even as they dropped to earth the fruit waxed wonderfully, for all the sap and radiance of the dying Tree were in it, and the juices of that fruit were like quivering flames of amber and of red and its pips like shining gold, but its rind was of a perfect lucency smooth as a glass whose nature is transfused with gold and therethrough the moving of its juices could be seen within like throbbing furnace-f1ires. So great became the light and richness of that growth and the weight of its fruitfulness that the bough bent thereunder, and it hung as a globe of fires before their eyes.

Then said Yavanna to Aulл: “Bear thou up the branch, my lord, lest it snap and the fruit of wonder be dashed rudely to the ground; and the greatest ruth would that be, for know ye all that this is the last flame of life that Laurelin shall show.” But Aulл had stood by as one lost in sudden thought since first that fruit came to ripening, and he answered now saying: “Very long indeed did Varda and I seek through the desolate homes and gardens for materials of our craft. Now do I know that Ilъvatar has brought my desire into my hand.” Then calling to Tulkas to aid him he severed the stem of that fruit, and they that behold gasped and were astonied at his ruthlessness.

Loudly they murmured, and some cried: “Woe to him that ravishes anew our Tree,” and Vбna was in great ire. Yet did none dare to draw nigh, for those twain Aulл and Tulkas might scarcely bear up even upon their godlike shoulders that great globe of flame and were tottering beneath it. Hearing their anger indeed Aulл 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 Aulл alone of all those there was unmoved by sorrow. Then said Aulл: “Of this can I make a ship of light—surpassing even the desire of Manwл,” and now Varda and many others, even Vбna, 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 Aulл 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 Aulл 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.