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Far over the Misty Mountain cold

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 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 dragon’s ire more fierce that 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 hall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

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.
J.R.R Tolkien

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