April / Katharine Tynan

April

A black North Wind that chills
New leaves and songs scarce sung;
It was not so in Aprils
When I was young.

Thrush-notes and blackbird-trills
The blossomy boughs among;
All in the leafy Aprils
When I was young.

Showers on the heavenly hills
Rainbow and silver hung;
Such tears and smiles were April's
When I was young.

Small streams and babbling rills,
Green ways where gossamers swung;
The young lambs leaped in Aprils
When I was young.

Daisies and daffodils,
Primroses newly sprung;
Fragrant and fresh the Aprils
When I was young.

Here in this town that kills,
The heart for cold is wrung.
It's O for the happy Aprils
When I was young!

~~
Katharine Tynan (1861-1931)
from Poems, 1901

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Katharine Tynan biography

Slow Spring / Katharine Tynan

Slow Spring

As the day lengthens, the year strengthens.
     Strengthen, young year!
Grow strong and handsome, gallant and winsome,
     Comely and dear.

Gray days shall hold you, sweet days shall fold you,
     Till there shall come
The wind-flowers dancing, the tulips glancing,
     The swallows home.

The nests not yet in the grass are set
     For larks in the sky
To love you madly and hail you gladly,
     Hail you and die.

The rose-tree shows not a trace of the rose
     That shall crown your head.
The leaves are furled in a silent world
     Till your word be said.

O year, grow slowly. Exquisite, holy,
     The days go on
With almonds showing the pink stars blowing
     And birds in the dawn.

Grow slowly, year, like a child that is dear,
   Or a lamb that is mild,
By little steps, and by little skips,
   Like a lamb or a child.

~~

Katharine Tynan (1861-1931)

from Poems, 1901

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the Euopean Union]

Katharine Tynan biography 

The Pastoral Pilgrim / Katharine Tynan

The Pastoral Pilgrim

For me the town sets forth in vain
Her painted pleasures in a train,
For I arise and go
To a delicious world I know.

There the gold-fretted fields are set
Like pearls within a carcanet
With daisies fine and fresh,
And kingcups tangled in a mesh.

The pastoral lands I seek where stray
The strawberry cattle and the gray,
Knee deep in dew and scent,
Placid, and breathing forth content.

Brave copses line each hill, and there
The pleasant habitations are
With roses to the eaves,
And nightingales amid the leaves.

When I shall wake there to the sun
And the birds' early antiphon,
And lusty bee his chant,
How shall I grieve, how shall I want ?

Sweet peas and dappled mignonette
Below my crystal window set,
Clear air and lucent skies,
And the dove's whispers and replies.

A garden and an orchard white
And pink — an orchard's my delight.
Whose very name doth bring
Airs of the summer, joy of spring.

And having these shall I repine
For houses, houses in a line,
With other men to dwell?
Give me my staff and cockle-shell.

~~
Katharine Tynan (1861-1931)
from Poems, 1901

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Katharine Tynan biography

The Weeping Babe / Katharine Tynan

The Weeping Babe

She kneels by the cradle
     Where Jesus doth lie;
Singing, Lullaby, my Baby!
     But why dost Thou cry?

The babes of the village
     Smile sweetly in sleep;
And lullaby, my Baby,
     That ever dost weep!

I've wrapped Thee in linen,
     The gift of the Kings;
And wool, soft and fleecy,
     The kind Shepherd brings.

There's a dove on the trellis,
     And wings in the door,
And the gold shoes of angels
     Are bright on our floor.

Then lullaby, my Baby!
     I've fed thee with milk,
And wrapped thee in kisses
     As soft as the silk.

And here are red roses,
     And grapes from the vine,
And a lamb trotting softly,
     Thy playfellow fine.

Now smile, little Jesus,
     Whom naught can defile;
All gifts will I give Thee
     An thou wilt but smile.

But it's lullaby, my Baby!
     And mournful am I,
Thou cherished little Jesus,
     That still Thou wilt cry.

~~
Katharine Tynan (1861-1931)
from Poems, 1901

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Katharine Tynan biography

Love at Easter / Katharine Tynan

Love at Easter

Sing to the Lord a new song!
     Because the Spring comes newly.
And every slender sapling
     Has budded green and red.
Sing to the Lord a new song!
     The skylark sings it truly,
Since all in dewy April
     His love and he are wed.

Sing to the Lord a new song!
     For every bird's a lover,
And o'er the purple furrows
     The green spears nod and wave.
Sing to the Lord a new song!
     Since Lenten fasts are over.
And Easter 's gone in glory.
     And Christ has left the grave.

Sing to the Lord a new song!
     A song of love and wedding,
For every bird is building
     His nest in bower and tree.
Sing to the Lord a new song!
     The tufts of soft wool spreading
Where a brown wife and babies
     This April-tide shall be.

~~
Katharine Tynan (1861-1931)
from Poems, 1901

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Katharine Tynan biography

Easter / Katharine Tynan

Easter

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

For now He cometh forth
Winter flies to the north,
Folds wings and cries
Amid the bergs and ice.

Bring no sad palms like those
That led Him to His foes,
Bring wind-flower, daffodil.
From many a vernal hill.

Let there be naught but bloom
To light Him from the tomb
Who late hath slain
Death, and his glory ta'en.

Yea, Death, great Death is dead,
And Life reigns in his stead;
Cometh the Athlete
New from dead Death's defeat.

Cometh the Wrestler,
But Death he makes no stir,
Utterly spent and done,
And all his kingdom gone.

Bring flowers, make holiday,
In His triumphal way.
Salve ye with kisses
His hurts that make your blisses.

Bring flowers, make holiday,
For His triumphal way:
Yea, fling before Him
Hearts of men that adore Him.

~~
Katharine Tynan (1861-1931)
from Poems, 1901

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Katharine Tynan biography

Sheep and Lambs / Katharine Tynan

Sheep and Lambs

All in the April evening,
     April airs were abroad,
The sheep with their little lambs
     Passed me by on the road.

The sheep with their little lambs
     Passed me by on the road;
All in the April evening
     I thought on the Lamb of God.

The lambs were weary, and crying
     With a weak, human cry.
I thought on the Lamb of God
     Going meekly to die.

Up in the blue, blue mountains
     Dewy pastures are sweet
Rest for the little bodies,
     Rest for the little feet

~~
Katharine Tynan (1861-1931)
from Ballads and Lyrics, 1891

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Katharine Tynan biography