FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE AND HER PRAISERS.
If you debase the sex to elevateOne of like soul and temper with the rest,You do but wrong a thousand fervent hearts,To pay full tribute to one generous breast.
Mercy belongs to us from ancient days—Yea—when the Human and Divine did part,God left the boon of pity to the world,And left it garnered in a woman's heart.
In the old warrior times of feud and fire,When the fierce world in armour watched and slept,Maidens, high-hearted, left the sumptuous court,And with pure hands the sick man's pillow kept.
In those rude ages, they were fain to shieldTheir holy virtue 'neath monastic vows,Now, England's daughter, without fear or blush,To the wide world her valiant zeal avows.
