Katharine Tynan

Katharine Tynan

1,000 карма
United Kingdom (Great Britain)

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He was so foolish, the poor lad, He made superior people smile Who knew not of the wings he had Budding and growing all the while;
Nor that the laurel wreath was made Already for his curly head
Silly and childish in his ways; They said: ...
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He died the loneliest death of all,     Amid his foes he died
But Someone's leaped the outer wall    And Someone's come inside,
And he has gotten a golden
To set the lonesome prisoner free
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Where there is nothing God comes in: The Very God has room
In the poor heart that's stripped so clean Of earth and all the joys thereof
I looked for shadow and the night When Death had taken her Love away,
But for the darkness there...
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Bring flowers to strew His way,
Yea, sing, make holiday;
Bid young lambs leap,
And earth laugh after sleep
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ST Heaven be thronged with grey-beards hoary,    God, who made boys for His delight,
Stoops in a day of grief and glory    And calls them in, in from the night
When they come trooping from the
Our skies have many a new gold star
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So I have sunk my roots in earth Since that my pretty boys had birth;
And fear no more the grave and gloom,
I, with the centuries to come
As the tree blossoms so bloom I,
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This is the sign
This flooding splendour, golden and hyaline,
This sun a golden sea on hill and plain, --That God forgets not, that He walks with men
His smile is on the mountain and the
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