The Dwarves Song from The Hobbit
JRR Tolkien, 1937
Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale, enchanted gold.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells
Their hammers fell; like ringing bells.
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hallowed halls, beneath the fells.
The pines were roaring on the height
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees, like torches, blazed with light.
The mountains smoked beneath the moon
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying fall,
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.
Far over the Misty Mountains cold
Through dungeon deep and cavern cold
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.
