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...