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The lady looked up at them, well pleased, and smiling her assent, she began this song: "Songs and flowers are returning, And radiant skies of May, Earth her choicest gifts is yielding, But one is past away. The spring that clothes with tend'rest green Each grove and sunny plain, Shines not for my forsaken heart, Brings not my joys again.
O gentle moon, to-night Unveil thy softest, tend'rest light Where feet I love, so small and white, Do bear my love to me!" "Stand up, Roger, here is nought to harm us, methinks," quoth Beltane softly, "stand up, and hold my bridle." "But see now, master, there be devil-goblins a many that do pipe like very angels."
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