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Morris, William, 1834-1896

"The Roots of the Mountains; Wherein Is Told Somewhat of the Lives of the Men of Burgdale"

'
The Alderman laughed, and said: 'If they be Gods they are welcome
indeed; and they shall grow the wiser for their coming; for they
shall learn how guest-fain the Burgdale men may be. But if, as I
deem, they be like unto us, and but the children of the Gods, then
are they as welcome, and it may be more so, and our greeting to them
shall be as their greeting to us would be.'
Even as he spake the horn was winded nearer yet, and more loudly, and
folk came pouring out of the Gate to learn the tidings. Presently
the strangers came from off the Portway into the space before the
Gate; and their leader was a tall and goodly man of some thirty
winters, in glorious array, helm on head and sword by side, his
surcoat green and flowery like the spring meads. In his right hand
he held a branch of the blossomed black-thorn (for some was yet in
blossom), and his left had hold of the hand of an exceeding fair
woman who went beside him: behind him was a score of weaponed men in
goodly attire, some bearing bows, some long spears, but each bearing
a flowering bough in hand.
The tall man stopped in the midst of the space, and the Alderman and
they with him stirred not; though, as for Face-of-god, it was to him
as if summer had come suddenly into the midst of winter, and for the
very sweetness of delight his face grew pale.


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