Look on the Holy Hearth new-litten,
How the sparks fly twinkling up aloof!
How the wavering smoke by the sunlight smitten,
Curls up around the beam-rich roof!
For here once more is the Wolf abiding,
Nor ever more from the Dale shall wend,
And never again his head be hiding,
Till all days be dark and the world have end.
CHAPTER LII. OF THE NEW BEGINNING OF GOOD DAYS IN SILVER-DALE
On the third day there was high-tide and great joy amongst all men
from end to end of the Dale; and the delivered thralls were feasted
and made much of by the kindreds, so that they scarce knew how to
believe their own five senses that told them the good tidings.
For none strove to grieve them and torment them; what they would,
that did they, and they had all things plenteously; since for all was
there enough and to spare of goods stored up for the Dusky Men, as
corn and wine and oil and spices, and raiment and silver. Horses
were there also, and neat and sheep and swine in abundance. Withal
there was the good and dear land; the waxing corn on the acres; the
blossoming vines on the hillside; and about the orchards and
alongside the ways, the plum-trees and cherry-trees and pear-trees
that had cast their blossom and were overhung with little young
fruit; and the fair apple-trees a-blossoming, and the chestnuts
spreading their boughs from their twisted trunks over the green
grass.
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