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far_over_the_misty_mountains_cold_buggy.txt
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far_over_the_misty_mountains_cold_buggy.txt
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Farthe misty mountains cold
To dungeonsand caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale gold.
Theof yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell likebells
In places deep, where dark sleep,
Inhalls beneath the fells.
ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaminghoard
shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hiltsword.
Onnecklaces they strung
The flowering , on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted
meshed the light of moon and sun.
Farthe misty mountains cold
To dungeons deepcaverns old
We must away, ere breakday,
Toour long-forgotten gold.
Goblets they carved therethemselves
Andof gold; where no man delves
There lay they long, anda song
sung unheard by men or elves.
The pines were roaring on the ,
Thewere moaning in the night.
The fire was , it flaming spread;
The trees like torches blazedlight.
Thewere ringing in the dale
And men theyup with faces pale;
The dragon’s ire morethan fire
Laidtheir towers and houses frail.
The mountain smoked beneathmoon;
Thethey heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall tofall
Beneathfeet, beneath the moon.
Far over the mistygrim
Todeep and caverns dim
We must away, ere breakday,
Toour harps and gold from him!
The windon the withered heath,
butthe forest stirred no leaf:
there shadows lay beor day,
andthings silent crept beneath.
The wind came down fromcold,
anda tide it roared and rolled;
the branches groaned, themoaned,
andwere laid upon the mould.
The wind went on from WestEast;
movement in the forest ceased,
but shrill and harshthe marsh
itsvoices were released.
The grasses hissed, theirbent,
thewere rattling--on it went
o'er shakenunder heavens cool
where racing clouds were tornrent.
Itthe Lonely Mountain bare
and sweptthe dragon's lair:
there black and darkboulders stark
flying smoke was in the air.
It left the world and tookflight
overwide seas of the night.
The moon set sail upongale,
stars were fanned to leaping light.
Under the Mountainand tall
King has come unto his hall!
His foe is dead, theof Dread,
Andso his foes shall fall.
Theis sharp, the spear is long,
The arrow swift, theis strong;
The heartbold that looks on gold;
The dwarves no more shallwrong.
Theof yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell likebells
Indeep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneathfells.
Onnecklaces they strung
The light of stars,crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, fromwire
melody of harps they wrung.
Thethrone once more is freed!
O! wandering folk, theheed!
haste! Come haste! across the waste!
The king of friend andhas need.
Now callover mountains cold,
‘Come back unto theold’!
Herethe Gates the king awaits,
His hands are rich withand gold.
Theis come unto his hall
Under the Mountainand tall.
Worm of Dread is slain and dead,
And ever so our foesfall!