Ho! Hands all round! Whilst hand-in-hand
We need not fear the fierce sword-whetters
Who'd make the pleasant earth a camp,
And stain blood-red the white May-flowers.
May echoes of no mailèd tramp
Disturb ye in your Spring-deck'd bowers,
Glad garland-weavers! Heaven bestow
"Sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing,"
One thing above all others know,
Ye who the earth-round band are wreathing,