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Title: Nurse Cavell
Author: Abner Cosens [
More Titles by Cosens]
November, 1915
This world has spots made holy
By deeds or lives of love,
Has shrines where high and lowly
Alike, their hearts may prove;
This age, when faith might falter
Mid shriek of shot and shell,
Has added one more altar,
The grave of Nurse Cavell.
She cared for sick and dying,
Knew neither friend nor foe,
She spent her strength in trying
To heal a neighbor's woe.
For deeds by love inspired
The Kaiser's vengeance fell
On form so frail and tired,
Heroic Nurse Cavell.
What though the Prussian kultur
Now threatened her with death;
She met the screaming vulture
In simple, quiet faith,
"I am an English woman,
I love my country well,
But must not hate a foeman,"
Said kindly Nurse Cavell.
She faced the guns with even,
Calm, fearless, English eyes,
And then, her foes forgiven,
Made willing sacrifice;
Thus, at the midnight hour,
In Prussian prison cell,
Crushed by a tyrant's power,
Died Christlike Nurse Cavell.
But when no more war legions
In battles fierce are hurled,
When, to remotest regions,
Peace reigns throughout the world;
Where'er beyond the waters
The British peoples dwell
Mothers will tell their daughters
The tale of Nurse Cavell.
[The end]
Abner Cosens's poem: Nurse Cavell
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