And yet what is this, and why fare ye so slowly,
While our echoing halls of our voices are dumb,
And abideth unlitten the hearth-brand the holy,
And the feet of the kind fare afield till we come?
For not yet through the wood and its tangle ye wander;
Now skirt we no thicket, no path by the mere;
Far aloof for our feet leads the Dale-road out yonder;
Full fair is the morning, its doings all clear.
There is nought now our feet on the highway delaying
Save the friend’s loving-kindness, the sundering of speech;
The well-willer’s word that ends words with the saying,
The loth to depart while each looketh on each.
Fare on then, for nought are ye laden with sorrow;
The love of this land do ye bear with you still.
In two Dales of the earth for to-day and to-morrow
Is waxing the oak-tree of peace and good-will.
Thus then they departed from Silver-dale, even as men who were a portion thereof, and had not utterly left it behind. And that night they lay in the wild-wood not very far from the Dale’s end; for they went softly, faring amongst so many friends.
CHAPTER LVI. TALK UPON THE WILD-WOOD WAY.
On the morrow morning when they were on their way again Face-of-god left his own folk to go with the House of the Steer a while; and amongst them he fell in with the Sun-beam going along with Bow-may. So they greeted him kindly, and Face-of-god fell into talk with the Sun-beam as they went side by side through a great oak-wood, where for a space was plain green-sward bare of all underwood.
So in their talk he said to her: ‘What deemest thou, my speech-friend, concerning our coming back to guest in Silver-dale one day?’
‘The way is long,’ she said.
‘That may hinder us but not stay us,’ said Face-of-god.