To the best of the uplands we wend, and when the season comes
we travel adown to the best of fruitful valleys.
Like rain of the heaven are we: there is not in all our line
one blunt of heart, nor among us is counted a niggard.
We say nay when so we will to the words of other men,
but no man to us says nay when we give sentence.
When passes a lord of our line, in his stead there rises straight
a lord to say the say and do the deeds of the noble.
Our beacon is never quenched to the wanderer of the night,
nor has ever a guest blamed us where men meet together.