But lo! what gleameth on the bank
Across the water wan,
As when our blood the mouse-ear drank
And red the river ran?
Nay, hasten to the ripple clear,
Look at the grass beyond!
Lo ye the dainty band and dear
Of maidens fair and fond!
Lo how they needs must take the stream!
The water hides their feet;
On fair kind arms the gold doth gleam,
And midst the ford we meet.
Up through the garden two and two,
And on the flowers we drip;
Their wet feet kiss the morning dew
As lip lies close to lip.
Here now we sing; here now we stay:
By these grey walls we tell
The love that lived from out the fray,
The love that fought and fell.
When he was done they all said that he had sung well, and that the
song was sweet. Yet did Wild-wearer smile somewhat; and Bow-may said
outright: 'Soft is the song, and hath been made by lads and
minstrels rather than by warriors.'
'Nay, kinswoman,' said Wood-father, 'thou art hard to please; the
guest is kind, and hath given us that I asked for, and I give him all
thanks therefor.'
Face-of-god smiled, but he heeded little what they said, for as he
sang he had noted that the Friend looked kindly on him; and he
thought he saw that once or twice she put out her hand as if to touch
him, but drew it back again each time.
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