Poem by William Ernest Henley

In Hospital. 9. Lady-Probationer

Some three, or five, or seven, and thirty years;
A Roman nose; a dimpling double-chin;
Dark eyes and shy that, ignorant of sin,
Are yet acquainted, it would seem, with tears;
A comely shape; a slim, high-coloured hand,
Graced, rather oddly, with a signet ring;
A bashful air, becoming everything;
A well-bred silence always at command.
Her plain print gown, prim cap, and bright steel chain
Look out of place on her, and I remain
Absorbed in her, as in a pleasant mystery.
Quick, skilful, quiet, soft in speech and touch . . .
‘Do you like nursing?’  ‘Yes, Sir, very much.’
Somehow, I rather think she has a history.

1. Echoes. 30. Kate-a-Whimsies, John-a-Dreams
2. Rhymes and Rhythms. 13. Under a Stagnant Sky
3. Rhymes and Rhythms. 23. Here They Trysted, Here They Strayed
4. Echoes. 27. She Sauntered by the Swinging Seas
5. Rhymes and Rhythms. Epilogue

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