Meadow and Dale

Fair is the sun, and fair the breeze,
And fair are shining lance and mail,
And fair it is to sit at ease
On winter’s eve and hear a tale
Of sunset over shining seas,
Of mountain crag or rippling sail.
But at harvest time, more than these
I love the meadow and the dale.

Fair is rest in the summer sun,
And fair are laughter and merry song,
But better still a job well done,
And a back by work made strong.
When winter comes, the larder’s full
Of ruddy meats and cheeses pale,
Of fruits and grain and warming wool,
The spoil of meadow and of dale.