Tonight's MWM may, to some of you, be familiar. If you've read J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, that is. Just like I'm doing currently. And just as my younger brothers and sisters are about to do as well. Then again, it may be familiar to you if you've seen MWM #6. It's another (and, in my own opinion, somewhat better) version of the first part of this song. Not to say that this first part is bad: quite the opposite. It's a fun little piece.
However, it's the second part I really like. My dad always says it captures the mystery and eeriness and solemnity of the dwarves; that you could really see them singing there, wreathed in the smoke-rings from Gandalf's pipe. I definitely agree: it gives me chills every time. Such songs as this always capture the imagination, in humans as well as hobbits, and conjure up images in the mind better than any wizard. And that is important to me.
Still not convinced? Here's a third opinion, worded far better than mine.
"As they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning and by magic moving through him, a fierce and jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves. Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick. He looked out of the window. The stars were out in a dark sky above the trees. He thought of the jewels of the dwarves shining in dark caverns. Suddenly in the wood beyond The Water a flame leapt up--probably somebody lighting a wood-fire--and he thought of plundering dragons settling on his quiet Hill and kindling it all to flames. He shuddered; and very quickly he was plain Mr. Baggins of Bag-End, Under-Hill, again."
~ J. R. R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, Chapter I, An Unexpected Party.
***
Dwarves (sung):
Chip the glasses, crack the plates
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates
So carefully, carefully with the plates!
Blunt the knives and bend the forks
Smash the bottles, burn the corks
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates
So carefully, carefully with
The
Plates
**
Far o'er the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold
**
Gandalf (spoken):
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep
In hollow halls beneath the fells
Goblets they carved there for themselves
And harps of gold where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves
For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword
On silver necklaces they strung
The flow'ring stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun
*
The pines were roaring on the height
The winds were moaning in the night
The fire was red, it flaming spread
The trees like torches blazed with light
The bells were ringing in the dale
The men looked up with faces pale
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail
The mountain smoked beneath the moon
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom
They fled their hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon
**
Dwarves (sung):
We must away ere break of day
To win our harps and gold from him
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