SONG
Ride, ride, soldier ride,
By the deep clear waterside,
Down to where the call is cried,
On we ride to war.
It is impossible to say which soldier begins the song first, nor who picks it up second, but soon it seems as though the whole army is singing. Merry cannot join in, for he does not know the song, but Éowyn hums quietly behind him as the Army begins to move out on the ride that will take them to Pellanor.
Cry not, my love, on field or hill,
For love who's gone from town and mill,
I have my sword and shield and will
And on I ride to war.
One clear voice is raised in the tongue of the Rohirrim. Merry realizes it is Éowyn singing, and worries that she may give their position away. But it is too late now to be concerned with secrecy. There is no chance to turn back – not anymore. None that any would be forced to take.
My shield is bright, my sword is long,
And for my king I will march on,
My love, remember when I'm gone,
Mourn not my ride to war.
Ride, ride, soldier ride,
By the deep clear waterside,
Down to where the call is cried,
On we ride to war.