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"By my faith," said Leofwine brightening; "these are sounds and sights that do a man's heart good, after those doleful ditties, and the long faces of the shavelings. I vow by St. Alban, that I felt my veins curdling into ice-bolts, when that dirge came through the woodholt.
Daintily dight is that Dearest of joy fields; Breezes all balmy-filled Glide through its groves. There to the blest, ope The high doors of heaven, Sweetly sweep earthward Their wavelets of song. Frost robes the sward not, Rusheth no hail-steel; Wind-cloud ne'er wanders, Ne'er falleth the rain. Warding the woodholt, Girt with gay wonder, Sheen with the plumy shine, Phoenix abides.
Daintily dight is that Dearest of joy fields; Breezes all balmy-filled Glide through its groves. There to the blest, ope The high doors of heaven, Sweetly sweep earthward Their wavelets of song. Frost robes the sward not, Rusheth no hail-steel; Wind-cloud ne'er wanders, Ne'er falleth the rain. Warding the woodholt, Girt with gay wonder, Sheen with the plumy shine, Phoenix abides.
"By my faith," said Leofwine brightening; "these are sounds and sights that do a man's heart good, after those doleful ditties, and the long faces of the shavelings. I vow by St. Alban, that I felt my veins curdling into ice-bolts, when that dirge came through the woodholt.
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