Under the Mountain dark and tallnThe King has come unto his hall!nHis foe is dead, the Worm of Dread,nAnd ever so his foes shall fall.nnThe sword is sharp, the spear is long,nThe arrow swift, the Gate is strong;nThe heart is bold that looks on gold;nThe dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.nnThe dwarves of yore made mightly spells,nWhile hammers fell like ringing bellsnIn places deep, where dark things sleep,nIn hollow halls beneath the fells.nnOn silver necklaces they strungnThe light of stars, on crowns they hungnThe dragon-fire, from twisted wirenThe melody of harps they wrung.nnThe mountain throne once more is freed!nO! wandering folk, the summons heed!nCome haste! Come haste! across the waste!nThe king of friend and king has need.nnThe king is come unto his hallnUnder the Mountain dark and tall.nThe Worm of Dread is slain and dead,nAnd ever so our foes shall fall!nnNow call we over mountains cold,n'Come back unto the caverns old'!nHere at the Gates the king awaits,nHis hands are rich with gems and gold.nnThe king is come unto his hallnUnder the Mountain dark and tall.nThe Worm of Dread is slain and dead,nAnd ever so our foes shall fall!