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Sandpiper Poems

Table of Contents

  1. The Sandpiper by Celia Thaxter
  2. Sandpipers by Duncan Campbell Scott
  3. The Little Beach Sanderling by Isaac McLellan

  1. The Sandpiper

    by Celia Thaxter

    Across the lonely beach we flit,
    One little sandpiper and I,
    And fast I gather, bit by bit,
    The scattered driftwood, bleached and dry.
    The wild waves reach their hands for it,
    The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,
    As up and down the beach we flit,
    One little sandpiper and I.

    Above our heads the sullen clouds
    Scud, black and swift, across the sky;
    Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds
    Stand out the white lighthouses high.
    Almost as far as eye can reach
    I see the close-reefed vessels fly,
    As fast we flit along the beach,
    One little sandpiper and I.

    I watch him as he skims along,
    Uttering his sweet and mournful cry;
    He starts not at my fitful song,
    Nor flash of fluttering drapery.
    He has no thought of any wrong,
    He scans me with a fearless eye;
    Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong,
    The little sandpiper and I.

    Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night,
    When the loosed storm breaks furiously?
    My driftwood fire will burn so bright!
    To what warm shelter canst thou fly?
    I do not fear for thee, though wroth
    The tempest rushes through the sky;
    For are we not God's children both,
    Thou, little sandpiper, and I?

  2. Sandpipers

    by Duncan Campbell Scott

    The sandpipers trip on the glassy beach,
    Ready to mount and fly;
    Whenever a ripple reaches their feet
    They rise with a timorous cry.

    Take care, they pipe, take care, take care,
    For this is a treacherous main,
    And though you may sail so deftly out,
    You may never come home again.

  3. The Little Beach Sanderling

    by Isaac McLellan

    By the beach border, where the breeze
    Comes freighted from the briny seas,
    By sandy bar and weedy rock
    I frequent meet thy roving flock;
    Now hovering o'er the bending sedge,
    Now gather'd at the ocean edge;
    Probing the sand for shrimps and shells,
    Or worms marine in hidden cells,
    A restless and inconstant band,
    Forever flitting o'er the sand.
    Sandpiper! — haunting every shore
    Where'er the waves of ocean roar;
    Old voyagers that roam the deep
    Tell that your dusky pinions sweep
    O'er the remotest islands set
    In ocean's emerald coronet.

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