Then, ashen pale, but ever with her eyes
Turned to the God of Calvary, poured out
The soothing draught, and with a delicate hand
Gave to the wounded man the drink he asked.
And when the doctor in the morning came,
And saw Irene beside the officer,
Tending him still and giving him his drink
With trembling fingers, he was much amazed,
That through the dreary watches of the night
The raven locks, which, at set of sun,