Master Odd on the morrow spake, _So many times over comes summer again_. "Hearken, O guest, if ye be awake," _What healing in summer if winter be vain_? "Sure ye champions of the south Speak many things from a silent mouth. And thine, meseems, last night did pray That ye might well be wed to-day. The year's ingathering feast it is, A goodly day to give thee bliss. Come hither, daughter, fine and fair, Here is a Wooer from Whitewater. East away hath he gotten fame, And his father's name is e'en my names. Will ye lay hand within his hand, That blossoming fair our house may stand?" She laid her hand within his hand; White she was as the lily wand. Low sang Snaebiorn's brand in its sheath, And his lips were waxen grey as death. "Snaebiorn, sing us a song of worth, If your song must be silent from now henceforth." Clear and loud his voice outrang, And a song of worth at the wedding he sang. "Sharp sword," he sang, "and death is sure." _So many times over comes summer again_, "But love doth over all endure." _What healing in summer if winter be vain_? Now winter cometh and weareth away, _So many times over comes summer again_, And glad is Hallbiorn many a day. _What healing in summer if winter be vain_? Full soft he lay his love beside; But dark are the days of wintertide. Dark are the days, and the nights are long, And sweet and fair was Snaebiorn's song. Many a time he talked with her, Till they deemed the summer-tide was there. And they forgat the wind-swept ways And angry fords of the flitting-days. While the north wind swept the hillside there They forgat the other Whitewater. While nights at Deildar-Tongue were long, They clean forgat the Brothers'-Tongue. But whatso falleth 'twixt Hell and Home, _So many times over comes summer again_, Full surely again shall summer come. _What healing in summer if winter be vain_?