Fangorn: Poems of Mountains and Forests
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The king beneath the mountains, The king of carven stone, The lord of silver fountains Shall come into his own! The woods shall wave on mountains And grass beneath the sun: His wealth shall flow in fountains And the rivers golden run. His crown shall be upholden, His harp shall be restrung, His halls shall echo golden To songs of yore re-sung. The streams shall run in gladness, The lakes shall shine and burn, All sorrow fail and sadness At the mountain-king's return! The king beneath the mountains, The king of carven stone, The lord of silver fountains Shall come into his own! His crown shall be upholden, His harp shall be restrung, His halls shall echo golden To songs of yore re-sung. His crown shall be upholden, His harp shall be restrung, His halls shall echo golden To songs of yore re-sung The woods shall wave on mountains And grass beneath the sun: His wealth shall flow in fountains And the rivers golden run.
Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Nov 08, 2025
Down the swift dark stream you go Back to lands you once did know! Leave the halls and caverns deep, Leave the northern mountains steep, Where the forest wide and dim Stoops in shadow grey and grim! Float beyond the world of trees Out into the whispering breeze, Past the rushes, past the reeds, Past the marsh's waving weeds, Through the mist that riseth white Up from mere and pool at night! Follow, follow stars that leap Up the heavens cold and steep; Turn when dawn comes over land, Over rapid, over sand, South away! and South away! Seek the sunlight and the day, Back to pasture, back to mead, Where the king and oxen feed! Back to gardens on the hills Where the berry swells and fills Under sunlight, under day! South away! and South away! Down the swift dark stream you go Back to lands you once did know! Leave the halls and caverns deep, Leave the northern mountains steep
Submitted by SerpentEve — Nov 08, 2025
Then the sun goes down, but the night is clear I cannot see the way, but my sword is near See the sign in the sky It shows you the way With my sword inside my hand I reach the long forgotten lake As I look inside the sea I saw what I could not believe Then the sun goes down, but the night is clear I cannot see the way, but my sword is near But I anyway know what I have to do I feel it in my heart and in my soul No one ever is gone this way before I will be the first and the last See the sign in the sky It shows you the way
Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Feb 06, 2026
Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away ere break of day To seek the pale enchanted gold. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, While hammers fell like ringing bells In places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells. For ancient king and elvish lord There many a gloaming golden hoard They shaped and wrought, and light they caught To hide in gems on hilt of sword. On silver necklaces they strung The flowering stars, on crowns they hung The dragon-fire, in twisted wire They meshed the light of moon and sun. 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. Goblets they carved there for themselves And harps of gold; where no man delves There lay they long, and many a song Was sung unheard by men or elves. 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 biased 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 frail. The mountain smoked beneath the moon; The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom. They fled their hall to dying -fall Beneath his feet, beneath the moon. Far over the misty mountains grim To dungeons deep and caverns dim We must away, ere break of day, To win our harps and gold from him! 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 biased 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 frail.
Submitted by The Void — Apr 18, 2026
Far over the Misty Mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away ere break of day To seek the pale enchanted gold The dwarves of yore made mighty spells While hammers fell like ringing bells In places deep, where dark things sleep In hollow halls beneath the fells Goblets they carved there for themselves And harps of gold; where no man delves There lay they long, and many a song Was sung unheard by men or elves 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 frail The mountain smoked beneath the moon The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom They fled their hall to dying fall Beneath his feet, beneath the moon Far over the Misty Mountains grim To dungeons deep and caverns dim We must away, ere break of day To win our harps and gold from him!
Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Feb 06, 2026