The Nightingale in the East
On a dark lonely night, on the Crimea’s dread shore—
There had been bloodshed and strife on the morning before—
The dead and the dying lay bleeding around,
Some crying for help—there was none to be found.
Now God in his mercy He pity’d their cries,
And the soldier so cheerfully in the morning doth rise,
So forward my lads, may your hearts never fail,
You are cheered by the presence of a sweet Nightingale.
Now God sent this angel to succour the brave,
Some thousands she’s saved from an untimely grave;
Her eyes beam with pleasure, she’s bounteous and good,
The wants of the wounded are by her understood.
With fever some brought in, with life almost gone,
Some with dismantled limbs, some to fragments are torn,
But they keep up their spirits, their hearts never fail,
Now they’re cheered by the presence of a sweet Nightingale.
Her heart it means good—for no bounty she’ll take,
She’d lay down her life for the poor soldier’s sake,
She prays for the dying, she gives peace to the brave,
She feels that a soldier has a soul she may save.
The wounded they love her, as it has been seen;
She’s the soldier’s preserver, they call her their queen!
May God give her strength, and her heart never fail,
One of heaven’s best gifts is Miss Nightingale.
The wives of the wounded, how thankful are they;
Their husbands are cared for, how happy are they;
Whate’er her country, this gift God has given,
The soldiers they say she’s an angel from heaven.
Sing praise to this woman, and deny it who can!
And all women were sent for the comfort of man;
Let’s hope no more against them you’ll rail,
Treat them well, and they’ll prove like Miss Nightingale.