| Far over the Misty Mountains cold
|
| To dungeons deep and caverns old
|
| We must away, ere break of day
|
| To seek our pale enchanted gold
|
| The dwarves of yore made mighty spells
|
| While hammers fell like ringing bells
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| In places deep, where dark things sleep
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| In hollow halls beneath the fells
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| For ancient king and elvish lord
|
| There many a gleaming golden hoard
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| They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
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| To hide in gems on hilt of sword
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| On silver necklaces they strung
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| The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
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| The dragon-fire, on twisted wire
|
| They meshed the light of moon and sun
|
| Far over the Misty Mountains cold
|
| To dungeons deep and caverns old
|
| We must away, ere break of day
|
| To claim our long-forgotten gold
|
| Goblets they carved there for themselves
|
| And harps of gold, where no man delves
|
| There lay they long, and many a song
|
| Was sung unheard by men or elves
|
| The pines were roaring on the heights
|
| The wind was moaning in the night
|
| The fire was red, it flaming spread
|
| The trees like torches blazed with light
|
| The bells were ringing in the Dale
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| And men looked up with faces pale
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| The dragon’s ire, more fierce than fire
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| Laid low their towers and houses frail
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| The mountain smoked beneath the moon
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| The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom
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| They fled the hall to dying fall
|
| Beneath his feet, beneath the moon
|
| Far over the Misty Mountains grim
|
| To dungeons deep and caverns dim
|
| We must away, ere break of day
|
| To win our harps and gold from him!
|
| Far over the misty mountains cold
|
| To dungeons deep and caverns old |