Katharine Tynan

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: ...

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

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...

Bring flowers to strew His way,
Yea, sing, make holiday;
Bid young lambs leap,
And earth laugh after sleep

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

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,

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