The darkish stuffed all of the room, and the fireplace died down, and the shadows were lost, and nevertheless they performed on. And unexpectedly first one and then some other began to sing as they performed, deep-throated making a song of the dwarves in the deep locations in their historical homes; and that is like a fragment of their track, if it can be like their song without their track.
A ways over the misty mountains bloodless
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We need to away ere first light
To are trying to find the pale enchanted gold.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
Whilst hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark matters sleep,
In hole halls underneath the fells.
For historical king and elvish lord
There many a gloaming golden hoard
They fashioned and wrought, and mild they stuck
To cover in gem stones on hilt of sword.
On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-hearth, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.
Some distance over the misty mountains bloodless
To dungeons deep and caverns antique
We have to away, ere morning time,
To say our lengthy-forgotten gold.
Goblets they carved there for themselves
And harps of gold; where no guy delves
There lay they long, and many a tune
Became sung unheard by means of guys or elves.
The pines had been roaring on the peak,
The winds were moaning inside the night time.
The fireplace changed into crimson, it flaming unfold;
The bushes like torches biased with light,
The bells had been ringing inside the dale
And men looked up with faces light;
The dragon's ire more fierce than hearth
Laid low their towers and homes frail.
The mountain smoked below the moon;
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their corridor to dying -fall
Beneath his ft, beneath the moon.
A ways over the misty mountains grim
To dungeons deep and
tera gold caverns dim
We must away, ere morning time,
To win our harps and
tera gold from him!
