the midday sun
They left the chapmen on the hill , And through the eve and through the night They rode to have true tidings still , And were there on the way when the dawn was bright . O damsels fair , what do ye then To loiter thus upon the way , And have no fear of the Mountain-men , The host of the carles that strip and slay ? O riders weary with the road , Come eat and drink on the grass hereby ! And lay you down in a fair abode Till the midday sun is broad and high ; Then unto you shall we come aback , And lead you forth to the Mountain-men , To note their plenty and their lack , And have true tidings there and then . ’T is over the hill and over the dale They ride from the mountain fast and far ; And now have they learned a soothfast tale , True tidings of the host of war . It was summer-tide and the Month of Hay , And men and maids must fare afield ; But we saw the place were the bow-staves lay , And the hall was hung with spear and shield . When the moon was high we drank in the hall , And they drank to the guests and were kind and blithe , And they said : Come back when the chestnuts fall , And the wine-carts wend across the hythe .