 | Late songs |  |
19
THE NURSE
A year before the war God sent
And took her from her tender task,
Now that we know His kind intent
Nor why, nor wherefore, do we ask.
And took her from her tender task,
Now that we know His kind intent
Nor why, nor wherefore, do we ask.
He saw the dreadful, glorious war,
And in what scourged and bitter strait
The young souls thronging from afar
Should fall and faint at Heaven's gate.
And in what scourged and bitter strait
The young souls thronging from afar
Should fall and faint at Heaven's gate.
Red wounds for to be staunched and healed
And broken things to be made new;
The crushed sheaves of the battlefield,
Drenched with a dark and bitter dew.
And broken things to be made new;
The crushed sheaves of the battlefield,
Drenched with a dark and bitter dew.
Such weariness to put to bed,
Such heaviness to be made glad,
Such younglings to be comforted
Before their mothers came, she had.
Such heaviness to be made glad,
Such younglings to be comforted
Before their mothers came, she had.
20
Soft hands to make rough pillows smooth,
A passionate kindness for all pain
Were hers—God called her home in ruth
And pity for His broken men.
A passionate kindness for all pain
Were hers—God called her home in ruth
And pity for His broken men.
She plies her lovely business,
Goes hither and thither like a light.
To yours, to mine, she may give ease;
A King's nurse now goes clad in white.
Goes hither and thither like a light.
To yours, to mine, she may give ease;
A King's nurse now goes clad in white.
| Late songs | |