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

41. Indian Summer 4/14/2010
42. The Lowlands Of Flanders 4/14/2010
43. The Secret Foe 4/14/2010
44. The Watchers 4/14/2010
45. Speeding 4/14/2010
46. Herbal 4/14/2010
47. Mediation 4/14/2010
48. Meetings 4/14/2010
49. To R A A 4/14/2010
50. The Weeping Babe 1/3/2003
51. Mater Dei 1/3/2003
52. Menace 4/14/2010
53. Lament 4/14/2010
54. Haymaking 4/14/2010
55. The Temple 4/14/2010
56. The Refreshment 4/14/2010
57. The Trust 4/14/2010
58. The Deserted 4/14/2010
59. Emptiness 4/14/2010
60. The Widow 4/14/2010
61. To Two Bereaved 4/14/2010
62. The Vision: (Katia: Easter Sunday, 1916) 4/14/2010
63. The Boys Of The House: For Valentine And Hubert Blake 4/14/2010
64. Epiphany: (For Dora, 1918) 4/14/2010
65. Flower O' The Year 4/14/2010
66. His Footstep 4/14/2010
67. Mid The Piteous Heaps Of Dead 4/14/2010
68. The Open Road 4/14/2010
69. Good Friday, A.D. 33 4/14/2010
70. The Long Vacation 4/14/2010
71. The Last Parting 4/14/2010
72. The Perfect Playmate 4/14/2010
73. Song Of Going 4/14/2010
74. The Call 4/14/2010
75. The Comrades 4/14/2010
76. The Aerodrome 4/14/2010
77. The Heroes 4/14/2010
78. The Image 4/14/2010
79. The Vision 4/14/2010
80. Shamrock Song 4/14/2010

Comments about Katharine Tynan

  • rabbitrose@gmail.com (4/27/2018 3:37:00 PM)

    When did Katherine tynan die?

    0 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Charles Vaclavik (10/28/2012 2:52:00 PM)

    I would like to confirm that Katharine Tynan wrote the following, and in which poem.
    Far in the fields of France,
    My dear love lies asleep,
    But not for that my tears,
    Because he killed, I weep.

    Thank you,
    Charles Vaclavik
    Kaweah10@yahoo.com

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

The Foggy Dew

A splendid place is London, with golden store,
For them that have the heart and hope and youth galore;
But mournful are its streets to me, I tell you true,
For I'm longing sore for Ireland in the foggy dew.

The sun he shines all day here, so fierce and fine,
With never a wisp of mist at all to dim his shine;
The sun he shines all day here from skies of blue:
He hides his face in Ireland in the foggy dew.

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