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...