In Fangorn, Brego had the timbers felled
to build a fitting meadhall for his throne.
The golden roof of storied Meduseld
would gleam on wooden rafters, not Helm's stones.
Illiterate, his builders might have been
who coined no currency to spend in Dale.
They put their faith in equines, not machines
and celebrated life with lakes of ale.
Their architecture showed their good horse-sense
had not been dulled by urban fripperies.
They didn't trust in moat, or wall, or fence
to guard their brawny backs when at their ease.
Since Brego deemed one mustn't drink and ride,
Door-bars faced out, to pen his drunks inside.
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