J. R. R. Tolkien "The King Beneath The Mountains" testo

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The King Beneath The Mountains

The King beneath the mountains,The King of carven stone,The lord of silver fountainsShall come into his own!

His crown shall be upholden,His harp shall be restrung,His halls shall echo goldenTo songs of yore re-sung.

The woods shall wave on mountainsAnd grass beneath the sun;His wealth shall flow in fountainsAnd the rivers golden run.

The streams shall run in gladness,The lakes shall shine and burn,All sorrow fail and sadnessAt the Mountain-king's return!

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