Kate Harrington

(1831 - 1917 / Allegheny City, Pennsylvania)

Kate Harrington Poems

1. Mother 5/30/2014
2. Legend Of The Indian Summer 5/30/2014
3. The Children 5/30/2014
4. To A Night-Blooming Cereus. 6/2/2014
5. Madeline Bower 6/2/2014
6. Hold The Light 6/2/2014
7. Lines 6/3/2014
8. What Are The Snow-Flakes? 6/3/2014
9. The Baby 6/3/2014
10. October 7/1/2014
11. My Mother's Friend 7/1/2014
12. They Spoke In Whispers 7/1/2014
13. Esto Perpetua 7/1/2014
14. Only Lent 7/1/2014
15. Eda 7/1/2014
16. Nelly 's Story 7/9/2014
17. I'Ll Meet Thee Alone 7/9/2014
18. Little Georgie Ball 7/9/2014
19. Greeting To The Sir Knights 7/10/2014
20. I Am Waiting For Thee 7/10/2014
21. In Memoriam 6/2/2014
22. Josey's Birthday 6/2/2014
23. A Welcome To Our 'Jo' 6/2/2014
24. A Dirge For Horace Greeley 6/3/2014
25. The Broken-Hearted 7/14/2014
26. A Valentine 7/14/2014
27. A Welcome To Mrs. Frances D. Gage 7/14/2014
28. Oh, Why Was He Taken? 7/14/2014
29. Mount Vernon 7/22/2014
30. One Year Old 7/22/2014
31. Oh, What Shall Be My Song To-Night? 7/22/2014
32. Lines 7/22/2014
33. Voiceless Prayer 7/22/2014
34. Gone To Sleep 7/23/2014
35. Grandmother Dickey 7/23/2014
36. The Dying Soldier 8/7/2014
37. Call Me Thine Own 8/7/2014
38. God's Candle 8/7/2014
39. Away! 8/7/2014
40. Parting Song 8/7/2014
Best Poem of Kate Harrington

The Eastern Star

Read before the members of this degree at Hamilton, Illinois, on St. John's Day, June 24, 1875.

Most worthy Patron, Matron, friends,
The blue sky fondly o'er us bends;
This grand old river at our feet
Listens, as if 'twould fain repeat
To distant shore or passing breeze
A murmur of our melodies.

Oh, wisely chosen, the gentle Five,
Whose spotless virtues we should strive
To imitate, that we may be
Worthy adoptive Masonry ;
Worthy to learn their sacred rite
When heavenly Orders greet our sight;
Worthy to catch the mystic sign
When Eastern stars ...

Read the full of The Eastern Star

Iowa's Centennial Poem

A hundred years ago to-day
A barren wild our borders lay;
Our stately forests grandly stood
Wrapped in majestic solitude.
Our rivers, coursing to the sea,
Felt not the chain of tyranny;
Nor yet above their glittering sheen
Could Freedom's stripes and stars be seen.

[Hata Bildir]