Song of Durin (Complete Edition) - Clamavi De Profundis
We are now on Patreon!https://www.patreon.com/clamavideprofundisiTunes Link: https://goo.gl/1s3MRrAmazon Link: https://goo.gl/BuVCZGGoogle Play Link: https://goo.gl/izLCAHSpotify Link: https://goo.gl/VPuVVTHelp support our channel!Please check out our new merchandise! Get our logo on shirts, mugs, phone case and more! https://goo.gl/552HevWe are also now on Twitter:https://www.twitter.com/ClamaviDeAs many of you have requested, here is our original composition of J.R.R. Tolkien's "Song of Durin" Complete Edition! Sorry it took a while, but that is the nature of art.My brother composed and arranged the song. My family and I sang it. One of my brothers drew the beginning cover art.We hope you enjoy it!Lyrics:The world was young, the mountains green,No stain yet on the Moon was seen,No words were laid on stream or stoneWhen Durin woke and walked alone.He named the nameless hills and dells;He drank from yet untasted wells;He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,And saw a crown of stars appear,As gems upon a silver thread,Above the shadows of his head.The world was fair, the mountains tall,In Elder Days before the fallOf mighty kings in NargothrondAnd Gondolin, who now beyondThe Western Seas have passed away:The world was fair in Durin's Day.A king he was on carven throneIn many-pillared halls of stoneWith golden roof and silver floor,And runes of power upon the door.The light of sun and star and moonIn shining lamps of crystal hewnUndimmed by cloud or shade of nightThere shone for ever fair and bright.There hammer on the anvil smote,There chisel clove, and graver wrote;There forged was blade, and bound was hilt;The delver mined, the mason built.There beryl, pearl, and opal pale,And metal wrought like fishes' mail,Buckler and corslet, axe and sword,And shining spears were laid in hoard.Unwearied then were Durin's folk;Beneath the mountains music woke:The harpers harped, the minstrels sang,And at the gates the trumpets rang.The world is grey, the mountains old,The forge's fire is ashen-cold;No harp is wrung, no hammer falls:The darkness dwells in Durin's halls;The shadow lies upon his tombIn Moria, in Khazad-dûm.But still the sunken stars appearIn dark and windless Mirrormere;There lies his crown in water deep,Till Durin wakes again from sleep.