Katharine Tynan

(23 January 1861 - 2 Apirl 1931 / 23 January 1861 – 2 April 1931)

Vigil - Poem by Katharine Tynan

At night, when all the house is still,
Wide-waked the chairs and tables come
And yawn and stretch their limbs until
The maids appear with pan and broom.

Through the dim hours they creak and groan,
Their laughter plays with tyrant Man,
Shaken with stiff derision
For his pretensions and his span.

Where's then their willing servitude ?
Meek slaves for their creator's use.
They make a mock of flesh and blood
That passes with a morning's dews.

The heart that once leaped in the tree
Yet lives in the fantastic shapes
That foolish Man hath made to be --
But see how wide yon cupboard gapes!

With ' Yours' and 'Mine' they make great sport,
Who saw us come and see us go,
And will be when no least report
Of us but what a stone can show.

When ghosts and owlets flit abroad,
The furniture's awake, aware,
The floor complaining of its load,
And what a creaking of the stair.

Comments about Vigil by Katharine Tynan

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 14, 2010

[Report Error]