When the hills were purple with heather And spring rode over the Dale When my love and I were together, I could dream of a bridal veil. Before the Hounds came to rend us, We did own the spring and the moor - Now war has become my love's mistress And my young heart is weary and sore. Still in dreams do I walk out of fair valley Still in dreams I remember his voice, In that lost time still we do dally And still now is he my heart's choice. For a bond, once formed, is not broken And a promise, once having been spoken Must be kept, regardless of cost. A.C. Crispin, Andre Norton   "Songsmith"

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