If you've already seen the trailer of The hobbit then you know about the song. If you want to see The full lyrics of the song, then here they are.
Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To
dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To seek our
pale enchanted gold.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While
hammers fell like ringing bells,
In places deep, where dark things
sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
For ancient king and elvish
lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light
they caught,
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.
On silver necklaces
they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire,
on twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.
Far over the
Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere
break of day,
To claim our long-forgotten gold.
Goblets they carved
there for themselves,
And harps of gold, where no man delves
There lay
they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.
The pines
were roaring on the heights,
The wind was 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.
The dragon's 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 the
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!
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 wind came down
from mountains cold,
And like a tide it roared and rolled.
The branches
groaned, the forest moaned,
And leaves were laid upon the mould.
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.
The grasses hissed, their tassels bent,
The reeds were
rattling--on it went.
O'er shaken pool under heavens cool,
Where racing
clouds were torn and rent.
It passed the Lonely Mountain bare,
And
swept above the dragon's lair:
There black and dark lay boulders
stark,
And flying smoke was in the air.
It left the world and took its
flight
Over the wide seas of the night.
The moon set sale upon the
gale,
And stars were fanned to leaping light.
Under the Mountain dark
and tall,
The King has come unto 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;
The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.
The dwarves of yore
made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep,
where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
On silver
necklaces they strung
The light of stars, on crowns they hung
The
dragon-fire, from twisted wire
The melody of harps they wrung.
The
mountain throne once more is freed!
O! Wandering folk, the summons
heed!
Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste!
The king of freind and kin
has need.
Now call we over the mountains cold,
'Come back unto the
caverns old!'
Here at the gates the king awaits,
His hands are rich with
gems and gold.
The king has 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!
Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and
rain may fall,
We must away, ere break of day
Far over the wood and
mountain tall.
To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell
In glades beneath
the misty fell.
Through moor and waste we ride in haste,
And whither then
we cannot tell.
With foes ahead, behind us dread,
Beneath the sky
shall be our bed,
Until at last our toil be passed,
Our journey done, our
errand sped.
We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of
day!
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