Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek those things our fathers hold.
Our fathers lived in halls and caverns erst
Devoured by flame, of fates the worst
By fire-drake, his fire awake
And our revenge is surely nursed.
Through stone doors thick, through stone halls wide,
Through room and stores, secure inside
In days of yore in Erebor
Until the dark rose like a tide.
We wrought in gems and stones and gold
We made marvels such to behold
As still in song for homes we long,
Yet most our deeds remain untold.
Our skill was great, our craft supreme
Our weapons sharp, our metals gleam,
We had no fears, for many years,
So fair those days and ages seem.
Far over the misty mountains stark
We dare the peril, and the way dark
We shall away ere break of day
And of our deeds all men shall hark.
Our forebears wrought with mighty spell
As many tales and true legends tell
For many lands, with cunning hands
In all we made, we wrought full well.
Palace halls, rooms of beauty bright
Rows of lanterns, bringing forth new light
In mountains deep, the living reap
To forge new marvels to please the sight.
Elves and men living above the earth
Know but little underwhere gave them birth.
Deep fatherland, dwarves understand
In life and love, in song and mirth.
Far over the misty mountains spare
We come to ransack even the dragon’s lair
We shall away by night and day
Nothing of blood nor wrath will spare.