Far o-ver the Mis-ty-y Moun-tains cold, To dun-geons deep, -and ca-ver-ns old, We must a-way, -ere break of day, -To find our long -fo-or-got-ten gold, The pines were roar-ing, o-o-o-on the heights, The winds were moa-ning i-i-i-in the night, The fire was red, -it fla-ming spread, -The trees like tor-ches blazed with light,
