Far over the Misty Mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away, ere break of day To find our long-forgotten gold 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 wind was on the withered heath But in the forest stirred no leaf There shadows lay be night or day And dark things silent crept beneath The pines were roaring blazed with light I see flames climbed high into the night The wind went on from west to east All movement in the forest ceased But shrill and harsh across the marsh Its whistling voices were released
Farewell we call to hearth and hall Though wind may blow and rain may fall We must away, ere break of day Far over wood and mountain tall