Under the mountain dark and tall
The king has come unto 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 is swift, the gate is strong
The heart is hold that look on gold
The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong

The dwarves of yore made mightly spells
White hammer feel like ringing bells
In places deep where dark thing sleep
In hollow halls

The mountains throne once more is freed
Of wandering folk, the summons heed
Come haste ! Come haste ! Across the waste
The king of friend and kind has need

Now call we over mountains cold
Come back ! Come back ! Unto the caverns old
Here at the gates the king awaits
The worm of dread is slain and dead

And ever so our foes shall fall !