Misty Mountains Cold

Under the Mountain dark and tall
The king has come into his hall
His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread
And ever so his foes shall fall!

The sword is sharp, the spear is long
The arrow swift, the Gate is strong;
The heart is bold that looks on gold;
And dwarves no more shall suffer wrong

The mountain throne once more is freed!
Oh wandering folk, the summons heed!
Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste!
The king of friend and kin has need

The King is come unto his hall
Under the Mountain dark and tall
The Worm of Dread is slain and dead
And ever so our foes shall fall!