Katharine Tynan

[Katharine Tynan Hinkson, Katharine Tynan-Hinkson, Katharine Hinkson-Tynan] (23 January 1861 - 2 Apirl 1931 / 23 January 1861 – 2 April 1931)

Katharine Tynan Poems

81. The Call 4/14/2010
82. The Children Of Lir 1/3/2003
83. The Choice 4/14/2010
84. The Colonists 4/14/2010
85. The Comrades 4/14/2010
86. The Convent Garden 4/14/2010
87. The Crown 4/14/2010
88. The Dead Coach 4/14/2010
89. The Dear Brown Head 4/14/2010
90. The Deserted 4/14/2010
91. The Doves 1/3/2003
92. The Dream: (For My Father) 4/14/2010
93. The End Of The Day 1/3/2003
94. The Father 4/14/2010
95. The Fields Of France 4/14/2010
96. The Foggy Dew 1/3/2003
97. The Garden 4/14/2010
98. The Gardener 4/14/2010
99. The Golden Boy 4/14/2010
100. The Great Chance 4/14/2010
101. The Great May 4/14/2010
102. The Great Mercy 4/14/2010
103. The Great Sorrow 4/14/2010
104. The Heart Of A Boy 4/14/2010
105. The Heroes 4/14/2010
106. The Image 4/14/2010
107. The Last Parting 4/14/2010
108. The Last Question: (For B. A. Bingham) 4/14/2010
109. The Legend Of St. Austin And The Child 1/3/2003
110. The Little Flock 4/14/2010
111. The Little Old Woman 4/14/2010
112. The Long Vacation 4/14/2010
113. The Lowlands Of Flanders 4/14/2010
114. The Mother Of Three 4/14/2010
115. The New Recruit 4/14/2010
116. The Nurse 1/3/2003
117. The Old Love 4/14/2010
118. The Old Soldier 4/14/2010
119. The Only Child 1/3/2003
120. The Only Son 4/14/2010
Best Poem of Katharine Tynan

Any Woman

I am the pillars of the house;
The keystone of the arch am I.
Take me away, and roof and wall
Would fall to ruin me utterly.

I am the fire upon the hearth,
I am the light of the good sun,
I am the heat that warms the earth,
Which else were colder than a stone.

At me the children warm their hands;
I am their light of love alive.
Without me cold the hearthstone stands,
Nor could the precious children thrive.

I am the twist that holds together
The children in its sacred ring,
Their knot of love, from whose close tether
No lost child goes ...

Read the full of Any Woman

A Gardener-Sage

Here in the garden-bed,
Hoeing the celery,
Wonders the Lord has made
Pass ever before me.
I see the young birds build,
And swallows come and go,
And summer grow and gild,
And winter die in snow.

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