Lyrics:
Far over the misty mountains coldTo dungeons deep and carvens oldWe must away ere break of dayTo seek the pale enchanted goldThe pines were roaring on the heightThe winds were moaning in the nightThe fire was read, it flaming spreadThe trees like torches blazed with lightThe dwarves of yore made mighty spellsWhile hammers fell like ringing bellsIn places deep where dark things sleepIn hollow halls beneath the fellsFor ancient kind and elvish lordThere many a gleaming golden hordThey shaped and wrought, and light they caughtTo hide in gems on hilt of sword