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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
CONVENT GARDEN, by KATHARINE TYNAN Poem Explanation Poet's Biography Alternate Author Name(s): Hinkson, Katharine Tynan Subject(s): Nuns | |||
The Convent garden lies so near The Convent garden lies so near The road the people go, The road the people go, If it was quiet you might hear If it was quiet you might hear The nuns' talk, merry and low. The nuns' talk, merry and low. Black London trees have made their screen Black London trees have made their screen From folk who pry and peer, From folk who pry and peer, The sooty sparrows now begin The sooty sparrows now begin Their talk of country cheer. Their talk of country cheer. And round and round by twos and threes And round and round by twos and threes The nuns walk, praying still The nuns walk, praying still For fighting men across the seas For fighting men across the seas Who die to save them ill. Who die to save them ill. From the dear prison of her choice From the dear prison of her choice The young nun's thoughts are far; The young nun's thoughts are far; She muses on the golden boys She muses on the golden boys At all the Fronts of War. At all the Fronts of War. Now from her narrow Convent house Now from her narrow Convent house She sees where great ships be, She sees where great ships be, And plucks the robe of God, her Spouse, And plucks the robe of God, her Spouse, To give the victory. To give the victory. Under her robe her heart's a-beat, Under her robe her heart's a-beat, Her maiden pulses stir, Her maiden pulses stir, At sound of marching in the street, At sound of marching in the street, To think they die for her! To think they die for her! And now beneath the veil and hood And now beneath the veil and hood Her hidden eyes will glow, Her hidden eyes will glow, The battle ardour's in her blood -- The battle ardour's in her blood -- If she might strike one blow! If she might strike one blow! And when she sleeps at last perchance And when she sleeps at last perchance Her soul hath slipped away Her soul hath slipped away To fields of Serbia and of France To fields of Serbia and of France Until the dawn of day. Until the dawn of day. She wanders by the still moonbeam She wanders by the still moonbeam By dying and by dead, By dying and by dead, And many a broken man will dream And many a broken man will dream An angel lifts his head. An angel lifts his head. All day and night as a sweet smoke All day and night as a sweet smoke Her prayer ascends the skies Her prayer ascends the skies That all her piteous fighting folk That all her piteous fighting folk May walk in Paradise. May walk in Paradise. And still her innocent pulses stir, And still her innocent pulses stir, Her heart is proud and high, Her heart is proud and high, To think that men should die for her -- To think that men should die for her -- And the marching feet go by. And the marching feet go by. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FAR MEMORY: 2. SOMEONE INSIDE ME REMEMBERS by LUCILLE CLIFTON FAR MEMORY: 5. SINNERMAN by LUCILLE CLIFTON CLARE OF ASSISI by MADELINE DEFREES EXISTING LIGHT; FOR LEE NYE by MADELINE DEFREES GILBERT OF SEMPRINGHAM by MADELINE DEFREES GRANDMOTHER GRANT by MADELINE DEFREES HANGING THE BLUE NUNS; FOR WARREN CARRIER by MADELINE DEFREES IN THE MIDDLE OF PRIEST LAKE by MADELINE DEFREES PSALM FOR A NEW NUN by MADELINE DEFREES |
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