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 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 frailUnder the Mountain dark and tall, 
The king [bad word] into 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; 
And dwarves no more shall suffer wrong. 

The mountain throne once more is freed! 
Oh wandering folk, the summons heed! [bad word] haste [bad word] haste! Across the waste! 
The king of friend and kin has need. 

The King [bad word] unto his hall, 
Under the Mountain dark and tall. 
The Worm of Dread is slain and dead, 
And ever so our foes shall fall!