The Red Cross Nurse

You may speak of the soldiers in the trenches,
You may tell of the bravest of the brave,
And of those who fall in the conflict,
And find a soldier's glory in the grave,
And the general who is hailed as the hero,
Yes after the battle's lost or won,
There's one whose name is never mentioned,
There is one whose work is never done.

She's the angel who comes to the bedside,
And there ever faithful remain,
White the poor wounded fellow needs attention,
Or soothing from his sorrow and pain,
She's never away when she's wanted,
She's devotion until all life is past,
All hail to the Red Cross Nurse, sweet angel,
Who stands by the soldier to the last.

And a last earthly message he will give her,
It's perhaps to his children or his wife,
Or to one who waits his returning,
To claim her for his own throughout his life,
Or a mother who has prayed late and early,
That Heaven may spare her only boy,
A hand upon his brow, he whispers,
To a form that seems to bring him joy.

She's the angel who comes to the bedside,
And there ever faithful remain,
White the poor wounded fellow needs attention,
Or soothing from his sorrow and pain,
She's never away when she's wanted,
She's devotion until all life is past,
All hail to the Red Cross Nurse, sweet angel,
Who stands by the soldier to the last.