No stain yet on, the moon was seen
No words were led on stream or stone
when Durin woke and walked
He drank from yet untasted wells.
He stooped and looked in mirror, mirror,
And saw a crown of stars appear,
As gems upon a silver thread,
Above the shadows of his head.
The world was fair, the mountains tall,
In elder days before the fall
Of mighty kings in Argoth, Rhond,
Who now behold O 'er the west
ern seas that passed away
The world was fair in Durin's day
A king he was on coven throne
In many pillared halls of stone
With golden roof and silver floor
And rose of power upon the dawn
The light of sun and star
And soothing shining glance
There shone forever fair and bright
Their hammer on the anvil smote
Their chisel, clove, and grave erode
The delver mined, the mason built
Their beryl, pearl, and opal pale,
And metal wrought like fishes' bale,
Butler and corset, axe, and sword,
All we read then were Durin's folk,
The harpers harped, the minstrels sang,
And at the gates the trumpets rang.
The world is grey, the mountains old,
The forges fire, it's ashen gold.
The darkness dwells in Dur in's halls.
The shadow lies upon his tomb,
But still the sunken stars appear,
In dark and endless pyramid
Their light is coming water deep
Till the rain wakes again from sleep