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...