Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep, and caverns old We must away ere break of day To seek the pale enchanted 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 bells were ringing in the dale And men looked up with faces pale; Then dragons 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 the misty mountains grim To dungeons deep and caverns dim We must away, ere break of day, To win our harps and gold from him! Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep, and caverns old We must away ere break of day To seek the pale enchanted gold.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Dec 2014 15:32:11 +0000
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