Above all shadows rides the Sunand Stars for ever dwell:I will not say the Day is done,nor bid the Stars farewell.

When Summer lies upon the world, and in a noon of gold, Beneath the roof of sleeping leaves the dreams of trees unfold;When woodland halls are green and cool, and wind is in the West, Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is best!

O Orofarne, Lassemista, Carnimirie!O rowan fair, upon your hair how white the blossom lay!O rowan mine, I saw you shine upon a summer's day,Your rind so bright, your leaves so light, your voice so cool and soft:Upon your head how golden-red the crown you bore aloft!O rowan dead, upon your head your hair is dry and grey;Your crown is spilled, your voice is stilled for ever a day.O Orofarne, Lassemista, Carnimirie!

Under the Mountain dark and tallThe King has come unto his hall!His foe is dead,the Worm of Dread,And ever so his foes shall fall.The sword is sharp, the spear is long,The arrow swift, the Gate is strong;The heart is bold that looks on gold;The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,While hammers fells like ringing bellsIn places deep, where dark things sleep,In hollow halls beneath the fells.-from The Hobbit (Dwarves Battle Song)

Float beyond the world of trees. Out into the whispering breeze, past the rushes, past the weeds, past the marsh's waving reeds.