A greeting from a group of Dwarves, after hearing tidings of an Elven host entering Nogrod.
Whither is the windy welkin?
Whither is the hollowed mountain?
Whither sounded Jötnar’s thunder,
When he hewed the rock asunder?
Under star, or cloud pass cold,
Could now hide the Hollow Bold,
Though its gates thought lost to time,
Hiding dwellings still sublime.
Hark! The hammers fill the halls.
Echoing off those old stone walls.
Forges flame flies high aloft!
In the ancient halls they wrought.
Hear the Wyverns awful sound,
In these writhen halls surround,
Beards of fire, and pride of drakes!
Still they fell against its wake.
Captain, Shipmates, Man, and Elf,
Sought this ancient Dwarrowdelf?
But its treasures lie in keeping,
In the hands of dragons sleeping!
Gold in Ascar drew her nigh,
The terror of the great night sky.
And after slaying all who dwelt,
There upon her spoils knelt.
Now come you barring spoils grand?
Or scarred with evil dragons brand?
Will great Gearwing lead to doom?
Walk them to their cairn crest tomb?
See them leave the ghyll and tarn!
Into Mithlond without harm!
What great songs shall they be singing?
Under stars and bells a-ringing.
