Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away ere break of day To find our long-forgotten gold The pines were roaring on the height The wind was moaning in the night The fire was red, it flaming spread The trees like torches blazed with light The wind was on the withered heath But in the forest stirred no leaf There shadows lay be night or day And dark things silent crept beneath Farewell we call to hearth and hall Though wind may blow and rain may fall We must away, ere break of day Far over the wood and mountain tall We must away! We must away! We ride before the break of day!