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Poem by Katharine Tynan
Dead - A Prisoner
He died the loneliest death of all, Amid his foes he died. But Someone's leaped the outer wall And Someone's come inside, And he has gotten a golden key To set the lonesome prisoner free. It was not Peter with the keys, The heavenly janitor, Who has passed them like a rushing breeze, The gaolers at the door, And to His bosom as a bed Has taken the unmothered head. 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; Their gyves shall not be rough, But just the links of love, so soft That they shall not cast off. Rise up, my dear, and come away.' And they went out to the great day.
Katharine Tynan's other poems:
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