Rivers of fire, the dead of night 
In winter lying cold and white 
Upon the plain burst forth and high. 
The red was mirrored in the sky. 

From Hitblum's walls they saw the fire, 
The steam and smoke in spire on spire 
Leap up, till in confusion vast 
The stars were choked. And so it past 

There [bad word] sang both long and loud, 
And challenge rang unto the cloud 
That lay on Morgoth's northern tower, 
While Morgoth redeemed for his hour. 

Might and glory flowing for a changing dawn 
Ancient power reveals from an iron crown 

Clear and cold and shining so far and bright  [bad word] the world in one clash of your blinding light