An angel sent unto our suffering race,
With quiet step, and tender hand of healing,
Divinest pity on her gentle face.
When all the world lies wrapt in quiet slumber,
Save the poor sufferer moaning on his bed,
Whose watchful eye with Christian love keeps vigil
Through the long night with silent softened tread?
Only a nurse, in duty all unshrinking;
Before such scenes, man’s stouter heart would quail:
See there! that sweet, fair girl, in sorest trial