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Project Gutenberg Australia HomeReturn to Index of Poems
When you lavish your praise where the footlights are glowing,
When you fashion your garlands for fortunate deeds,
Forget not the worth that is steadily showing
In the strenuous life where humanity bleeds.
There is one who deserves the world’s plaudits and honour,
As any enshrined in heroical verse;
Let me throw for a moment the sunlight upon her,
That minist’ring angel—the hospital nurse.
She comes like a beau when your horoscope darkles,
Strewing many a flow’r on the pathway of thorns;
And the languishing eye of the little one sparkles
When her magical presence its cotside adorns;
At the comforting words that form part of her plan,
From the brows of the stricken the shadows disperse;
And the motherless child and the homeless old man
Lay their hearts at the shrine of the hospital nurse.
On the fields of the digger, in bushland and city.
She tends at the call of the poor crippled wight,
With a smile on her face, yet a soul full of pity;
Thro’ the tardy-winged hours of the slumberless night,
With patience she bears with the fretfullest mind,
Nor cares what his station, nor asks of his purse;
Midst the deadliest fevers of earth you will find
The devoted and brave little hospital nurse.
Wherever your place and wherever your calling,
Whatever the flag you are born to defend.
Where hot suns are burning, or cold snows are falling,
When you need her the most you will find her a friend;
Then forget not her worth when you fashion your garlands,
Praise her who can banish the moan and the curse,
For o’er the wide world, thro’ the nearlands and farlands,
Aye, an angel of love is the hospital nurse.
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