From ashes and fire be broken
   A light from the shadows shall spring
   Renewed shall be blade that was broken
   The crownless shall again be king
  
   The world is grey, the mountains old
   The forge's fire is ashen and cold
   No harp is wrung, no hammer falls
   The darkness dwells in Druin's halls
  
   The shadow lies upon his tomb
   But still the sunken stars appeal
   In the dark and windless Mirrormere
   There lies his crown in water deep
  
   'Til Druin wakes again from sleep
   A deadly sword, a healing hand
   A trumpet - voice, a burning hand
   A lord of Wisdom...
  
   Fire and shadow - both defied
   In Khazad-Dum his wisdom died
   In joy thou hast lived
  
   If thou hearest the cry
   of the Gull on the shore
   Thy soul shall then rest
   in the forest no more...