28.05.2007, 17:15
Florence Nightingale
England, if Time from out the Book of Fame
Should blod the desperate valor of thy men,
In the Crimea, an Englishwoman’s name,
As sweet as ever came from poet’s pen,
Would still defy him, - Florence Nightingale!
Honor to that fair girl, whose pitying heart
Led her across the sea, to ease the smart
Of soldier-wounds, and soothe the soldier’s wail.
Men can be great when great occasions call:
In little duties woman find their spheres, -
The narrow cares that cluster round the hearth;
But this dear woman wipes a nation’s tears,
And wears the crown of woomanhood for all:
Happy the land that gave such goodness birth!
England, if Time from out the Book of Fame
Should blod the desperate valor of thy men,
In the Crimea, an Englishwoman’s name,
As sweet as ever came from poet’s pen,
Would still defy him, - Florence Nightingale!
Honor to that fair girl, whose pitying heart
Led her across the sea, to ease the smart
Of soldier-wounds, and soothe the soldier’s wail.
Men can be great when great occasions call:
In little duties woman find their spheres, -
The narrow cares that cluster round the hearth;
But this dear woman wipes a nation’s tears,
And wears the crown of woomanhood for all:
Happy the land that gave such goodness birth!