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of the Mountain. The rocks echoed then with voices and with song, as
they had not done for many a day. There was the sound, too, of
elven-harps and of sweet music; and as it echoed up towards them it
seemed that the chill of the air was warmed, and they caught faintly the
fragrance of woodland flowers blossoming in spring. Then Bilbo longed to
escape from the dark fortress and to go down and join in the mirth and