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

121. The Open Road 4/14/2010
122. The Perfect Playmate 4/14/2010
123. The Predestined 4/14/2010
124. The Promise 4/14/2010
125. The Refreshment 4/14/2010
126. The Refuge 4/14/2010
127. The Riders 4/14/2010
128. The Sad Spring 4/14/2010
129. The Secret Foe 4/14/2010
130. The Summons 4/14/2010
131. The Temple 4/14/2010
132. The Test 4/14/2010
133. The Truce Of God 4/14/2010
134. The Trust 4/14/2010
135. The Vestal 4/14/2010
136. The Vision 4/14/2010
137. The Vision: (Katia: Easter Sunday, 1916) 4/14/2010
138. The Wall Between 4/14/2010
139. The Watchers 4/14/2010
140. The Weeping Babe 1/3/2003
141. The Widow 4/14/2010
142. The Wild Geese 4/14/2010
143. The Wind That Shakes The Barley 1/3/2003
144. The Young Mother 4/14/2010
145. The Young Soldier 4/14/2010
146. They Who Return 4/14/2010
147. To One In Grief 4/14/2010
148. To R A A 4/14/2010
149. To The Others 4/14/2010
150. To Two Bereaved 4/14/2010
151. Turn O' The Year 4/14/2010
152. Unfit 4/14/2010
153. Unhousel'D, Unanointed, Unanel'D 4/14/2010
154. Vigil 4/14/2010
155. What She Said 4/14/2010
156. What Turned The Germans Back 4/14/2010
157. When You Come Home 4/14/2010
158. Wild Geese 4/14/2010
159. Wings In The Night 4/14/2010
160. Winter Sunset 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.

[Hata Bildir]