Poem by Katharine Tynan

Slow Spring

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.

1. Any Mother
2. 'Mid the Piteous Heaps of Dead
3. Unhousel'd, Unanointed, Unanel'd
4. The Convent Garden
5. His Footstep

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