The fair house of Elrond welcomes the tired and weary travellers
And so, in the shadow of the Misty Mountains, there is peace at last
Their wounds are healed and their spirits mended
Days are spent roaming the gentle slopes and forests of the elven land
Nights are full of song and storytelling, and sitting about the fire with friends
But there are councils of war -- for the ring must go south
And nine shall be the number of the company
Nine to match the nine riders
Nine to hold the hope of many
Nine who hold the fate of freedom in their hands