Dressed in snow-white and sky-blue,she pace,

Merrily,steps up and down staircases.

Injects ailing patients healthful serums.

Fearless of catching contagion baneful.

To her, morning, evening are meaningless,

For, she toils by night and day restless.

Season's cycle disturbs not her routine.

Sultry summer, moderate autumn elapse,

Freezing winter, pleasant spring come and go.

Unmindful of return of her labour,

Dauntless of searching looks of onlookers.

Undaunted of advance of depraved.

Many a time her modest postures taken

Signs of discourtesy unwarranted.

Unadorned, unfamed she treads life's rough path.

Boasts not the wonders she works to sickened.

Contented she is the recovery

Of patients,deems it as her reward due.

Some nightingale, that with devotion true

Tended war-afflicted in Crimea,

May move in wards, theatres, inglorious,

Unwitting of great service she renders.

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