Far over the Misty Mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day

To find our long forgotten 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 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 went on from West to East

All movement in the forest ceased

But shrill and harsh across the marsh

Its whistling voices were released

Farewell we call to hearth and hall

Though wind may blow and rain may fall

We must away ere break of day

Far o'er the wood and mountain tall