English poem
Down to the beach they plodded, as was their wont before
by Mary Pickering Nichols (1829–1915)
Down to the beach they plodded, as was their wont before, Bearing the clothing with them to the bleak and sandy shore. They once more were standing, over the washing stooping; Ever they were thinking of their sorry plight, and sadly were they hoping.
Often now, and earnestly, over the watery waste, While they toiled and sorrowed, longing looks they cast; Still of those now dreaming sent by the queen to free them, Who o’er the sea were sailing. The high-born maidens hoped erelong to see them.
More by Mary Pickering Nichols
- Both the well-clad heroes before their seats now stood
- By Wâ-te they were guided from the castle down to the sand
- Clothed in the garb of tradesmen, on the shore did stand
- Cried Herwic, lord of Sealand: “Maidens fair and young
- Early on the morrow, after the mass was said
- First spake the eldest maiden: “How darest thou in our cave
- For days full four and twenty they fared thro’ the piny wood
- For many a day thereafter his sway did Ireland bless