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Staff-Nurse: New Style
BLUE-EYED and bright of face but waning fastInto the sere of virginal decay,I view her as she enters, day by day,As a sweet sunset almost overpast.Kindly and calm, patrician to the last,Superbly falls her gown of sober gray,And on her chignon’s elegant arrayThe plainest cap is somehow touched with caste.She talks BEETHOVEN; frowns disapprobationAt BALZAC’S name, sighs it at ‘poor GEORGE SAND’S’;Knows that she has exceeding pretty hands;Speaks Latin with a right accentuation;And gives at need (as one who understands)Draught, counsel, diagnosis, exhortation.