Poems by William Ernest Henley
page 17 of 175 (09%)
page 17 of 175 (09%)
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Somehow, I rather think she has a history.
X--STAFF-NURSE: NEW STYLE Blue-eyed and bright of face but waning fast Into 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 array The plainest cap is somehow touched with caste. She talks BEETHOVEN; frowns disapprobation At 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. XI--CLINICAL Hist? . . . |
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