Katharine Tynan Hinkson

“ The King's daughters, the King's sons,
⁠Fairer than the folk of earth?
Graves are busier than a hive
⁠The wind blows, the sun is warm;
Now the dead are come alive—
⁠Loosed is many a golden swarm. ”

“ God sets an old face there, long-tried and tender,
⁠A word and a hand-clasp as they troop in.
My boys! he welcomes them and Heaven is homely;
⁠He, their great Captain in days gone o'er.
Dear is the face of a friend, honest and comely,
⁠As they come home from the war and he at the door. ”

“ They are dying like the leaves of Autumn fast,
Scattered and broken, blown on every blast:
⁠The darling young, the brave,
⁠Love had no power to save.
Poor Love-lies-bleeding, Love's in ruins, downcast. ”

“ Ye shall have sheltered havens out of sound of the sea.
The first day of New Year strewed the sea with dead.
Lift up, lift up, broken heart and hanging head!
The Lord walks on the waters and a Shepherd is He
They shall have sheltered havens out of sound of the sea. ”

“ Now when for your two glorious men
⁠Your heart is broken, and your joy
On earth shall not be built again,—
⁠Oh, what a lover, what a boy!—
Dear heart, look up! Who helps you on
The way that you must walk alone? ”

“ Who dreamt of dying and the slain,
And the fierce thirst and the strong pain.
Dear boys! They shall be young for ever.
⁠The Son of God was once a boy.
They run and leap by a clear river
⁠And of their youth they have great joy. ”

“ They shall be given to you again,
⁠They shall sit down beside your fire.
The young and laurelled heads shall shine,
⁠Making a glory in your days
As a light burns in a secret shrine:
⁠The Love of the Lord is passing praise. ”

“ In the trenches and the field.
Where the dead lie thick He goes,
Where the brown earth's red as a rose,
He who walked the waters wide
Treads the wine-press, purple-dyed,
Stoops, and bids the piteous slain
That they rise with Him again. ”

“ Who said it was a mournful wedding?
⁠My hand in yours, Love, is not cold.
Go glad and gay to meet the foeman,
⁠I love you to my latest breath;
Oh, love, there is no happier woman,
⁠See, I am smiling! Love—till death! ”

“ Thou hast run, Thou hast run, preventing death.
Thou hast run before and reached the goal,
Gathered to Thee the unhoused soul.
Thou art not bound by Time or Space:
So fast Death runs: Thou hast won the race. ”

“ The hour of God is at the stroke.
Round and round the ruined place,—
Jesu, Mary, give us grace!
There are two riders clad in mail,
Silver as the moon pale.
One is tall as a knight's spear,
The younger one is lowlier. ”

“ Gabriel or some shining one
Guards her high destinies.
No rumour reaches her at all,
Beyond her safe encompassing wall,
Of a mad world that slays and slays:
She sees a little one that plays
And sleeps at evenfall. ”

“ For there will not come again
Two, the beloved sire and son
Whom all gifts were rained upon.
Kindness is all done, alas,
Courtesy and grace must pass,
Beauty, wit and charm lie dead,
Love no more may wreathe the head. ”

“ By such strange and wonderful ways
⁠God would save His world again.
All our days are holy days,
⁠Starry heroes all our men.
There's naught common or unclean
⁠In this splendid new-made earth:
Hearts uplifted, eyes serene,
⁠Grief goes gayer now than mirth. ”

“ Look Thou then on these bird-men, far
More than the sparrows and swallows are.
When they fly in the wintry weather
Be their compass and chart together.
Keep them riding the wind. Uphold
Their passion of flight lest it grow cold. ”

“ I present Christ's death and pain
'Twixt Thine anger and these men.
Lord, they die by millions
⁠And they look to Thee—take thought!—
This dear flock, that is Thy Son's,
⁠By the richest ransom bought. ”

“ The Lord's in the cattle shed.
He comes, a little trembling One,
To a world else lost, undone.
With His poor folk He wills to stay
In this their difficult day.
Poor war-worn world, you shall have ease! ”

“ The frolicsome young souls take their pleasure,
⁠Darting the silver stars between.
Though the old nests be sad, forsaken,
⁠The cotes of Heaven are yet unfilled:
In trees of Heaven as yet untaken
⁠The immortal Loves lift hearts and build. ”

“ Men from the ice-floes, men from the jungles come;
This from the arms of his bride, that from his dead.
Men from the plough, the mart, the mill and the street
They run: they are heroes: the fire fuses them all. ”

“ A shepherdess is Genevieve,
⁠And though her flock should wander light,
This shepherdess is quick to save
⁠The black, the speckled and the white.
She takes her golden crook and goes
And deals destruction to its foes. ”

“ Now that many babes are born
⁠Whose dear fathers lie in grass.
Snowdrops in the frozen earth
⁠Faint and are not comforted;
Never was so sad a birth,
⁠Never was so sad a bed.
She must bear her pangs alone. ”

“ With tin whistles, mouth-organs, any noise,
⁠They pipe the way to glory and the grave;
Foolish and young, the gay and golden boys
⁠Love cannot save.
High heart! High courage! The poor girls they kissed
⁠Run with them: they shall kiss no more, alas! ”

“ Sleep on nor fear the kindly night,
⁠The watching mountains set between.
The river sings its sleepy song,
⁠Nought stirs the wakeful owl beside:
Our peace is builded sure and strong:
⁠No evil beast can creep inside. ”

“ A great light in the prison shone
⁠That made the people blind:
Rise up, rise up, new-ransomed one,
⁠And taste the sun and wind:
For I have gotten a golden key
To set all lonesome prisoners free.
Yea they shall soar, shall spring aloft ”

“ Mother, lay your fingers white
On my forehead like a dew!
Mother, mother, where are you?
Still so loud he makes his cry
That the dying cannot die;
All the writhing field's one groan
While he lies and cries alone. ”

“ Dear, we might have known you were
⁠To die young—and were we blind
To the light on face and hair?
⁠Dear, so simple and so kind.
You were clean as your own sword
⁠And as straight too and steel true.
In the Army of the Lord
⁠What promotion waits for you! ”

“ The roads of the Sea
⁠Are thronged with merchantmen;
East and West, North and South
⁠They go and come again.
All precious merchandise
⁠They bear in their hold:
Lest the people be starving
⁠In the night and cold. ”

“ From the golden cage and thrall
⁠Into heaven-winged liberty.
From the cage the bird is flown,
⁠Sings so high above our sphere.
Hush,—be never a sigh or moan:
⁠The fledged bird flies without fear.
All our loves are gathered in,
⁠Every gay and golden lad ”

“ Now we doff hats to hear his name,
⁠Ask pardon where his spirit is,
Because we never guessed him for
A hero in the disguise he wore.
It matters little how we live
⁠So long as we may greatly die. ”

“ Flow softly, softly, Marne and Meuse;
⁠Tread lightly, all ye browsing sheep;
Fall tenderly, O silver dews,
⁠For here my dear Love lies asleep.
The earth is on his sealèd eyes,
⁠The beauty marred that was my pride ”

“ What was the voice before
⁠That lured him on?
"Oh, thou long-hungered for,
⁠My son, my son!"
Lo, he hath heard, hath seen,
⁠He hath slipped over
Where the great days begin
⁠For friend and lover. ”

“ When their sins are heavy as lead,
Thou Thyself will lift the head;
Thou, High Priest, wilt whisper low,
Te Absolvo! ere they go.
When there is no sacrifice,
Bread and Wine for Thy disguise,
Come Thou in the Spirit then ”

“ In this night of Hell revealed
⁠Call them that they run with Thee,
And come out in a green field
⁠Where they gather round Thy knee.
All poor women that give suck,
⁠All that are with child, lead Thou,
By the margins of a brook
⁠Where is daisied peace enow. ”

“ Philip's followed Alan's lead.
They are gone into the night
With the great heroes of old,
With the stars, the stars they are bright;
They are warm; they are not cold.
They live: they are not dead. ”

“ THE LOWLANDS OF FLANDERS
(An Old Song Resung)
The night that I was married
⁠Our Captain came to me:
Rise up, rise up, new-married man
⁠And come at once with me.
For the Lowlands of Flanders,
⁠It's there that we must fight ”

“ Your martyr's palms began to be
⁠Before "Let there be Light" was said.
And still where'er you come and go
⁠The world's the lighter for your load.
Who thinks on common things and low
⁠When your high sorrow takes the road? ”

“ The danger's in his blood like wine,
⁠The old heroic passion leaps;
The son of the mighty fighting line
⁠Goes glad whatever woman weeps.
He plays the game, winning or losing,
⁠As in the playing-fields at home ”