Poems (Helen Jenkins)/Florence Nightingale
FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE.
Hark! the dreadful din of battle
Cometh from a land afar!
Hear the thunder, crash and rattle
Of the dauntless demon,—War!
Cometh from a land afar!
Hear the thunder, crash and rattle
Of the dauntless demon,—War!
On with dreadful fury rushing,—
Deafening drum and bugle-note,
Gleaming sword and saber flashing,—
Wreathed in smoke their banners float.
Deafening drum and bugle-note,
Gleaming sword and saber flashing,—
Wreathed in smoke their banners float.
There the brave, the true are falling,
Dead and dying side by side;
While with cannon-roar appalling,
Rushes on the fearful tide.
Dead and dying side by side;
While with cannon-roar appalling,
Rushes on the fearful tide.
One is there, a ministering angel,
Lingering near each dreadful scene,—
Gentle Mercy's sweet "Evangel,"
Brave of heart, with face serene;
Lingering near each dreadful scene,—
Gentle Mercy's sweet "Evangel,"
Brave of heart, with face serene;
O'er each couch of anguish bending,
Binding up each bleeding wound;
Like a seraph pure descending,
Spreading peace and joy around.
Binding up each bleeding wound;
Like a seraph pure descending,
Spreading peace and joy around.
Bravest of old England's daughters,
Thou hast won a lasting name!
O'er Atlantic's wide-spread waters
Comes the glory of thy fame.
Thou hast won a lasting name!
O'er Atlantic's wide-spread waters
Comes the glory of thy fame.
Well Britain's queen may deck thee
With her rarest, richest gem;
Yet a brighter crown awaits thee,—
'Tis a heavenly diadem!
With her rarest, richest gem;
Yet a brighter crown awaits thee,—
'Tis a heavenly diadem!