‘Up lads,’ cried Gil, seeing the couple walk arm in arm past them. ‘Put down your mugs, and take up your pipes and fiddles and what have you. It’s about to begin.’ He picked up his concertina and scrambled up onto the band’s raised platform. Tomlin put his fiddle to his chin and raised his brows at Gil. ‘ “
Love Will Find Out the Way”, lads,’ he directed, his foot tapping out the rhythm. Ferrin, you sing it – you sounded lovely on the last practice. We’ll come in on the refrain after you’ve done the first verse.’
Over the mountains
And over the waves,
Under the fountains
And under the graves,
Under floods that are deepest,
Which Ulmo obey
Over rocks which are the steepest,
Love will find out the way.
Where there is no place
For the glow-worm to lie,
Where there is no space
For receipt of a fly,
Where the gnat dares not venture,
Lest herself fast she lay,
But if Love comes, he will enter,
And will find out the way.
You may esteem him
A child for his might,
Or you may deem him
A coward from his flight.
But if she, whom Love doth honor,
Be concealed from the day
Set a thousand guards upon her,
Love will find out the way.
Some think to lose him
By having him confined
Some do suppose him,
Poor thing, to be blind;
But if ne'er so close ye wall him,
Do the best that you may,
Blind Love, if so ye call him,
Will find out his way.
You may train the eagle
To stoop to your fist.
You may try to inveigle
The Phoenix of the east.
The lioness, you may move her
To give o'er her prey;
But you'll ne'er stop a lover;
He will find out his way . . .
The song came to a close with a last fading instrumental strain. Then the piper played a sweet aire until everyone had taken their places.