A Dwarvish Sailing Song

Down the rushing mere- wash 

Of Kilf s welling blood, 

We ride the twisting timbers,

For hearth, clan, and honor. 

Under the ernes’ sky- vat,

Through the ice-wolves’ forest bowls, 

We ride the gory wood, 

For iron, gold, and diamond. 

Let hand-ringer and bearded gaper fill my grip

And battle-leaf guard my stone

As I leave the halls of my fathers

For the empty land beyond.

(There is more but it was not in the book)