English poem
To our beleaguered foemen we nought of this must tell
by Mary Pickering Nichols (1829–1915)
“To our beleaguered foemen we nought of this must tell, And to our friends but whisper the ills that us befell; We then must call our kinsmen hither to be hasting. Worse could never happen unto good knights at home, from warfare resting.”
More by Mary Pickering Nichols
- To her then said Lord Herwic: “How can she be clad
- To him, the king of Sealand, great ill erelong was wrought
- To Irold and his kinsmen kind greeting Hilda said
- To meet her friend, old Wâ-te, went Gu-drun alone
- Upon the fourth day’s morning to court they bravely rode
- Upon the morrow early, thither to come was seen
- Upon the seventh morning he came to Hettel’s land
- Wâ-te, the very daring, with all his knights had come