Anglo-Saxon verse

Ciar ingen Daire
fallen in Spring Crown Tourney, A.S. XLII

(Anglo-Saxon verse)

Eire bantiarna || iron maiden
With sword in hand || she faces her foe
Bright her continence || brazen her spirit
Ciar stands her ground || against the boar

The Norman knight || his own geas foretold
Begins his march || toward Monarchy
Trading blows with || the brazen maiden
The boar charges || oak leaves fall

Ciar shudders || and shakes off the damage
Cinching her belt || of bright knotwork
She steps to the field || fit for battle
An eagle screams || as swords engage

The Saracen knight || cedar strong
Dwarfs the bravehearted || warrior damsel
Quick her blade || oak leaves a-quiver
Talons fly || down flutters Ciar

The day progresses || without the Daire maid
Fighters advance || and fighters retire
Fate gives the nod || to the Norman knight
Another Crown awaits || Ciar ingen Daire

— Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

... weaver of words and wadmal

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