Loud laughed ye last year in the wheat-field a-smiting; And ye laughed as your backs drave the beam of the press. When the edge of the war-sword the acres are lighting Look up to the Banner and laugh ye no less. _Summer saith_: Ye called and I came, and how good was the greeting, When ye wrapped me in roses both bosom and side! Here yet shall I long, and be fain of our meeting, As hidden from battle your coming I bide. _Spring saith_: I am here for your comfort, and lo! what I carry; The blade with the bright edges bared to the sun. To the field, to the work then, that e’en I may tarry For the end of the tale in my first days begun! Therewith the throng opened, and a young man stepped lightly into the ring, clad in very fair armour, with a gilded helm on his head; and he took the sword from the hand of the Maiden of Spring, and waved it in the air till the westering sun flashed back from it. Then each of the four damsels went up to the swain and kissed his mouth; and Redesman drew the bow across the strings, and the four damsels sang together, standing round about the young warrior: It was but a while since for earth’s sake we trembled, Lest the increase our life-days had won for the Dale, All the wealth that the moons and the years had assembled, Should be but a mock for the days of your bale. But now we behold the sun smite on the token In the hand of the Champion, the heart of a man; We look down the long years and see them unbroken; Forth fareth the Folk by the ways it began. So bid ye these chapmen in autumn returning, To bring iron for ploughshares and steel for the scythe, And the over-sea oil that hath felt the sun’s burning, And fair webs for your women soft-spoken and blithe; And pledge ye your word in the market to meet them, As many a man and as many a maid, As eager as ever, as guest-fain to greet them, And bide till the booth from the waggon is made. Come, guests of our lovers! for we, the year-wielders, Bid each man and all to come hither and take A cup from our hands midst the peace of our shielders, And drink to the days of the Dale that we make. Then went the damsels to that wine-fountain, and drew thence cups of the best and brightest wine of the Dale, and went round about the ring, and gave drink to whomsoever would, both of the chapmen and the others; while the weaponed youth stood in the midst bearing aloft his sword and shield like an image in a holy place, and Redesman’s bow still went up and down the strings, and drew forth a sweet and merry tune.