Under the Mountain dark and tall, The king has come 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! Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste! The king of friend and kin has need.
The King is come unto his hall, Under the Mountain dark and tall. The Worm of Dread is slain and dead, And ever so our foes shall fall!