---

Katharine Tynan - The Young Mother
Work rating: Low

In dreadful times of tears and war
She sails, a little fixed star, 
Or like a little ship she glides 
With gentle winds and favouring tides
Up to the harbour bar. 


Wrapped in all mild tranquillities 
She muses: inward gaze her eyes; 
And lest she slip upon a stone
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. 


She is in the House of Life: and where 
She goes the angels bend to her, 
A little secret garden-close, 
Sweet with the lily and the rose, 
With frankincense and myrrh.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.