Carcharoth

Upon the threshold, watchful, dire
His eyes new-kindled with dull fire
His teeth were bare, his tongue aflame
Aroused he watched the no one came

No flitting shade nor hunted shape
Seeking from Agband to escape
Now past that guard what guile or might
Could thrust from death into the light

As gleam of swords in fire there flashed
The fangs of Carcharoth, and crashed
Together like a trap, and tore
His hand about the wrist, and shore