Why stand ye together, why bear ye the shield, Now the calf straineth tether at edge of the field? Now the lamb bleateth stronger and waters run clear, And the day groweth longer and glad is the year? Now the mead-flowers jostle so thick as they stand, And singeth the throstle all over the land? _The Men of the Steer sing_: No cloud the day darkened, no thunder we heard, But the horns’ speech we hearkened as men unafeared. Yea, so merry it sounded, we turned from the Dale, Where all wealth abounded, to wot of its tale. _The Men of the Bridge sing_: What white boles then bear ye, what wealth of the woods? What chafferers hear ye bid loud for your goods? _The Men of the Bull sing_: O the bright beams we carry are stems of the steel; Nor long shall we tarry across them to deal. Hark the men of the cheaping, how loudly they cry On the hook for the reaping of men doomed to die! _They all sing_: Heave spear up! fare forward, O Men of the Dale! For the Warrior, our war-ward, shall hearken the tale. Therewith they ceased a moment, and then gave a great and hearty shout all together, and all their horns blew, and they moved on down the hill as one man, slowly and with no jostling, the spear-men first, and then they of the axe and the sword; and on their flanks the deft archers loosed on the stumbling jostling throng of the Dusky Men, who for their part came on drifting and surging up the road to the hill.