Toiling Song for Young Dwarves

by Arathorn-(V)
May 26, 2004

Mountains old and mountains high,
Towering up to the sky,
In the deep caves do we dwell,
Mining minerals, gold stores swell.

Precious jewels, gems of all kinds,
Through dark caverns the long path winds.
Mithril Silver may line the wall,
The Dwarf who finds it shall stand tall.

Strike the rock and crack the stone,
Our strong axes we do hone,
Picks and shovels, gravel, dirt,
Arms and legs by day's end hurt.

But the treasure it would seem,
Is worth the ache, how it does gleam.
Fires set, the flames burn hot,
Add more metals to the pot.'

(This section was sung very low in embarrassment as elves were grinning at him, and is lost to lore.)

Heed not the hour, work work work,
Dig my lads, we shall not shirk!
Our duty's clear, by end of day,
We will have surely earned.. our.. paaaay!

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