Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old, 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. 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. 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.