Said Gold-mane: ‘Father, it is ill to set the words of a lonely man afar from his kin against the song that cometh from the heart of a noble house; yet may I not gainsay thee, but will sing to thee what I may call to mind, and it is called the Song of the Ford.’ Therewith he sang in a sweet and clear voice: and this is the meaning of his words: In hay-tide, through the day new-born, Across the meads we come; Our hauberks brush the blossomed corn A furlong short of home. Ere yet the gables we behold Forth flasheth the red sun, And smites our fallow helms and cold Though all the fight be done. In this last mend of mowing-grass Sweet doth the clover smell, Crushed neath our feet red with the pass Where hell was blent with hell. And now the willowy stream is nigh, Down wend we to the ford; No shafts across its fishes fly, Nor flasheth there a sword. But lo! what gleameth on the bank Across the water wan, As when our blood the mouse-ear drank And red the river ran? Nay, hasten to the ripple clear, Look at the grass beyond! Lo ye the dainty band and dear Of maidens fair and fond! Lo how they needs must take the stream! The water hides their feet; On fair kind arms the gold doth gleam, And midst the ford we meet. Up through the garden two and two, And on the flowers we drip; Their wet feet kiss the morning dew As lip lies close to lip. Here now we sing; here now we stay: By these grey walls we tell The love that lived from out the fray, The love that fought and fell. When he was done they all said that he had sung well, and that the song was sweet. Yet did Wild-wearer smile somewhat; and Bow-may said outright: ‘Soft is the song, and hath been made by lads and minstrels rather than by warriors.’ ‘Nay, kinswoman,’ said Wood-father, ‘thou art hard to please; the guest is kind, and hath given us that I asked for, and I give him all thanks therefor.’ Face-of-god smiled, but he heeded little what they said, for as he sang he had noted that the Friend looked kindly on him; and he thought he saw that once or twice she put out her hand as if to touch him, but drew it back again each time. She spake after a little and said: ‘Here now hath been a stream of song running betwixt the Mountain and the Dale even as doth a river; and this is good to come between our dreams of what hath been and what shall be.’ Then she turned to Gold-mane, and said to him scarce loud enough for all to hear: