Adveniat Regnum Tuum
Thy kingdom come ! Yea, bid it come!
But when Thy kingdom first began
On earth, Thy kingdom was a home,
A child, a woman, and a man.
The child was in the midst thereof,
O, blessed Jesus, holiest One!
The centre and the fount of love
Mary and Joseph's little Son.
Wherever on the earth shall be
A child, a woman, and a man,
Imaging that sweet trinity
Wherewith Thy kingdom first began,
Establish there Thy kingdom! Yea,
And o'er that trinity of love
Send down, as in Thy appointed day,
The brooding spirit of Thy Dove!
poem by Katharine Tynan
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The Wind that Shakes the Barley
There's music in my heart all day,
I hear it late and early,
It comes from fields are far away,
The wind that shakes the barley.
Above the uplands drenched with dew
The sky hangs soft and pearly,
An emerald world is listening to
The wind that shakes the barley.
Above the bluest mountain crest
The lark is singing rarely,
It rocks the singer into rest,
The wind that shakes the barley.
Oh, still through summers and through springs
It calls me late and early.
Come home, come home, come home, it sings,
The wind that shakes the barley.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Farewell
Not soon shall I forget--a sheet
Of golden water, cold and sweet,
The young moon with her head in veils
Of silver, and the nightingales.
A wain of hay came up the lane--
O fields I shall not walk again,
And trees I shall not see, so still
Against a sky of daffodil!
Fields where my happy heart had rest,
And where my heart was heaviest,
I shall remember them at peace
Drenched in moon-silver like a fleece.
The golden water sweet and cold,
The moon of silver and of gold,
The dew upon the gray grass-spears,
I shall remember them with tears.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Noel
I sang a song upon Christmas day
And the feet of many going one way,
The word the golden voice did say:
Gloria in Excelsis!
The air was filled with snowflakes white,
And the singing stars danced in their flight,
Sweet the song they sang in the night,
Et in terra pax!
Good singing folk, where is there peace,
And for the broken heart heartsease?
They chant: Come hither upon your knees,
Venite ad Bethlehem!
For now the Prince of Peace is born;
For the full heart and the heart forlorn
He signs His Peace upon Christmas Morn:
Adeste Fidelis!
poem by Katharine Tynan
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A Song Of Going
I would not like to live to be very old,
To be stripped cold and bare
Of all my leafage that was green and gold
In the delicious air.
I would not choose to live to be left alone,
The children gone away,
And the true love that I have leant upon
No more my staff and stay.
I would not live to stretch my shrivelled hands
To an old fire died low,
Minding me of the long-lost happy lands
And children long ago.
Let me be gone while I am leafy yet
And while my birds still sing,
Lest leafless, birdless, my dull heart forget
That ever it had Spring.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Song Of Going
I would not like to live to be very old,
To be stripped cold and bare
Of all my leafage that was green and gold
In the delicious air.
I would not choose to live to be left alone,
The children gone away,
And the true love that I have leant upon
No more my staff and stay.
I would not live to stretch my shrivelled hands
To an old fire died low,
Minding me of the long-lost happy lands
And children long ago.
Let me be gone while I am leafy yet
And while my birds still sing,
Lest leafless, birdless, my dull heart forget
That ever it had Spring.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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The Old Soldier
Lest the young soldiers be strange in heaven,
God bids the old soldier they all adored
Come to Him and wait for them, clean, new-shriven,
A happy doorkeeper in the House of the Lord.
Lest it abash them, the strange new splendour,
Lest it affright them, the new robes clean;
Here's an old face, now, long-tried, and tender,
A word and a hand-clasp as they troop in.
'My boys,' he greets them: and heaven is homely,
He their great captain in days gone o'er;
Dear is the friend's face, honest and comely,
Waiting to welcome them by the strange door.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Telling the Bees: (For Edward Tennant)
Tell it to the bees, lest they
Umbrage take and fly away,
That the dearest boy is dead,
Who went singing, blithe and dear,
By the golden hives last year.
Curly-head, ah, curly-head!
Tell them that the summer's over,
Over mignonette and clover;
Oh, speak low and very low!
Say that he was blithe and bonny,
Good as gold and sweet as honey,
All too late the roses blow!
Say he will not come again,
Not in any sun or rain,
Heart's delight, ah, heart's delight!
Tell them that the boy they knew
Sleeps out under rain and dew
In the night, ah, in the night!
poem by Katharine Tynan
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The Promise
To you and you it shall be given,
As unto Mary her lost Heaven;
Her Son and your son come
Alive out of the grave and gloom.
Like hers your bliss is pre-ordained
To see the wounds healed and unstained;
Yea, you shall kiss with her
Where the sharp blade hath left no scar.
They shall come in warm to your cold
Dropped arms that found naught to enfold,
And on your heart be laid
The young, the beloved, thorn-crowned head.
Sudden some dawning or some eve
Your dead son shall come in alive,
As once came Mary's Son;
The lost, the incredible Heaven be won.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Turn O' The Year
This is the time when bit by bit
The days begin to lengthen sweet
And every minute gained is joy -
And love stirs in the heart of a boy.
This is the time the sun, of late
Content to lie abed till eight,
Lifts up betimes his sleepy head -
And love stirs in the heart of a maid.
This is the time we dock the night
Of a whole hour of candlelight;
When song of linnet and thrush is heard -
And love stirs in the heart of a bird.
This is the time when sword-blades green,
With gold and purple damascene,
Pierce the brown crocus-bed a-row -
And love stirs in a heart I know.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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