A Elbereth, Gilthoniel,
Silvren penna miriel,
O... (something... I forget the rest)
Far over 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,
While hammers fell like ringing bells,
In places deep where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
For ancient king and elvish lord,
There many a gleaming golden hoard,
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.
On silver necklaces they strung
The flow'ring starts, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire in twisted wire,
They meshed the light of moon and sun.
Far over misty mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
to claim out long-forgotten gold.
Goblets they carved there for themselves,
And harps of gold where no man dwells,
There lay they long and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.
The pines were roaring on the height
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,
And men looked up with faces pale
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail.
The mountain 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 misty mountains grim,
To dungeons deep and caverns grim,
We must away, ere break of day
To win our harps and gold from him!
Ok, so I had to look up a few verses. Still...