|
|
|
|
 |
 |
To Isengard! Though Isengard be ringed and barred with doors of stone; Though Isengard be strong and hard, as cold as stone and bare as bone, We go, we go, we go to war, to hew the stone and break the door; For bole and bough are burning now, the furnace roars- we go to war! To land of gloom with tramp of doom, with roll of drum, We come, we come; To Isengard with doom we come! With doom we come, with doom we come! So the Ents sang as they marched southwards. |
