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Updated: October 28, 2026
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.