Thus was the Ship of the Moon, the crystal island of the Rose, and the Gods named it Rбna, the Moon, but the fairies Sil, the Rose,¹⁷ and many a sweet name beside. Ilsaluntл or the silver shallop has it been called, and thereto the Gnomes have called it Minethlos or the argent isle and Crithosceleg the disc of glass.

Now Silmo begged to sail upon the oceans of the firmament therein, but he might not, for neither was he of the children of the air nor might he find a way to cleanse his being of its earthwardness as had Urwendi¹⁸ done, and little would it have availed to enter Faskalan had he dared essay it, for then would Rбna have shrivelled before him. Manwл bade therefore Ilinsor, a spirit of the Sъruli who loved the snows and the starlight and aided Varda in many of her works, to pilot this strange-gleaming boat, and with him went many another spirit of the air arrayed in robes of silver and white, or else of palest gold; but an aged Elf with hoary locks stepped upon the Moon unseen and hid him in the Rose, and there dwells he ever since and tends that flower, and a little white turret has he builded on the Moon where often he climbs and watches the heavens, or the world beneath, and that is Uolл Kъvion who sleepeth never. Some indeed have named him the Man in the Moon, but Ilinsor is it rather who hunts the stars.

Now is to tell how the plan that Lуrien devised was changed, for the white radiance of Silpion is by no means so buoyant and ethereal as is the flame of Laurelin, nor virin so little weighty as the rind of the bright fruit of noon; and when the Gods laded the white ship with light and would launch it upon the heavens, behold, it would not rise above their heads. Moreover, behold, that living Rose continued to give forth a honey as of light that distills upon the isle of glass, and a dew of moonbeams glistens there, yet rather does this weigh the vessel than buoy it as did the1 increase of the Sunship’s flames. So is it that Ilinsor must return at times, and that overflowing radiance of the Rose is stored in Valinor against dark days—and it is to tell that such days come ever and anon, for then the white flower of the isle wanes and scarcely shines, and then must it be refreshed and watered with its silver dew, much as Silpion was wont of old to be.

Hence was it that a pool was builded hard by the dark southern wall of Valmar, and of silver and white marbles were its walls, but dark yews shut it in, being planted in a maze most intricate about it. There Lуrien hoarded the pale dewy light of that fair Rose, and he named it the Lake Irtinsa.

So comes it that for fourteen nights men may see Rбna’s bark float upon the airs, and for other fourteen the heavens know it not; while even on those fair nights when Rбna fares abroad it showeth not ever the same aspect as doth Sбri the glorious, for whereas that bright galleon voyageth even above Ilwл and beyond the stars and cleaveth a dazzling way blinding the heavens, highest of all things recking little of winds or motions of the airs, yet Ilinsor’s bark is heavier and less filled with magic and with power, and fareth never above the skies but saileth in the lower folds of Ilwл threading a white swathe among the stars. For this reason the high winds trouble it at times, tugging at its misty shrouds; and often are these torn and scattered, and the Gods renew them. At times too are the petals of the Rose ruffled, and its white flames blown hither and thither like a silver candle guttering in the wind. Then doth Rбna heave and toss about the air, as often you may see him, and mark the slender curve of his bright keel, his prow now dipping, now his stern; and whiles again he sails serenely to the West, and up through the pure lucency of his frame the wide Rose of Silpion is seen, and some say the aged form of Uolл Kъvion beside.

Then indeed is the Ship of the Moon very fair to look upon, and the Earth is filled with slender lights and deep quick-moving shadows, and radiant dreams go with cool wings about the world, but Lуrien has ruth amid his gladness, because his flower bears yet, and will for ever, the faint marks of its bruising and its fall; and all men can see them clearly.

But¹⁹ lo,’ saith Lindo, ‘I run on ahead, for yet have I only told that the silver ship is newly built, and Ilinsor yet but first stepped aboard—and now do the Gods draw that vessel once again up the steep sides of old Taniquetil singing as they go songs of Lуrien’s folk that long have been dumb in Valinor. Slower was that wayfaring than the lifting of the Ship of Morn, and all the folk strain lustily at the ropes, until Oromл coming harnesses thereto a herd of wild white horses, and thus comes the vessel to the topmost place.

Then behold, the galleon of the Sun is seen afar beating golden from the East, and the Valar marvel to descry the glowing peaks of many a mountain far away, and isles glimmering green in seas once dark. Then cried Ossл: “Look, O Manwл, but the sea is blue, as blue wellnigh as Ilwл that thou lovest!” and “Nay,” said Manwл, “envy we not Ilwл, for the sea is not blue alone, but grey and green and purple, and most beauteous-flowered with foaming white. Nor jade nor amethyst nor porphyry set with diamonds and with pearls outrival the waters of the Great and little seas when the sunlight drenches them.”

So saying Manwл sent Fionwл his son, swiftest of all to move about the airs, and bade him say to Urwendi that the bark of the Su1n come back awhile to Valinor, for the Gods have counsels for her ear; and Fionwл fled most readily, for he had conceived a great love for that bright maiden long ago, and her loveliness now, when bathed in fire she sate as the radiant mistress of the Sun, set him aflame with the eagerness of the Gods. So was it that Urwendi brought her ship unwilling above Valinor, and Oromл cast a noose of gold about it, and it was drawn slowly down upon the Earth, and behold, the woods upon Taniquetil glowed once more in the mingled light of silver and of gold, and all were minded of the ancient blending of the Trees; but Ilsaluntл paled before the galleon of the Sun till almost it seemed to burn no more. So ended the first day upon the world, and it was very long and full of many marvellous deeds that Gilfanon may tell; but now the Gods beheld the evening deepen over the world as the Sunship was drawn down and the glow upon the mountains faded, and the sparkle of the seas went out. Then the primeval darkness crept out again once more from many stealthy lairs, but Varda was glad to see the steady shining of the stars. Far upon the plain was Sбri drawn, and when she was gone Ilsaluntл was haled upon the topmost peak so that his white lucency fell out thence over the wide world and the first night was come. Indeed in these days darkness is no more within the borders of the world, but only night, and night is another and a different thing, by reason of the Rose of Silpion.

Now however does Aulл fill the brimming vessel of that flower with white radiance, and many of the Sъruli white-winged glide beneath and bear it slowly up and set it among the company of the stars. There does it swim slowly, a pale and glorious thing, and Ilinsor and his comrades sit them upon its rim and with shimmering oars urge it bravely through the sky; and Manwл breathed upon its bellying sails till it was wafted far away, and the beat of the unseen oars against the winds of night faded and grew faint.

Of this manner was the first rising of the Moon above Taniquetil, and Lуrien rejoiced, but Ilinsor was jealous of the supremacy of the Sun, and he bade the starry mariners flee before him and the constellate lamps go out, but many would not, and often he set sail in chase of them, and the little ships of Varda fled before the huntsman of the firmament, and were not caught:—and that, said Lindo, ‘is all, methinks, I know to tell of the building of those marvellous ships and their launching on the air.’²⁰