The Baby In The Ward
We were all sore and broken and keen on sleep, Tumours and hearts and dropsies, there we lay, Weary of night and wearier of day, With no more health in us than rotten sheep. Then, tossed to us on some intangible deep, Alicia came, and each man learnt to pray That Providence would please find out a way To still or abate the voice with which she would weep. God's infinite mercy, how that child did cry, In spite of bottle, bauble, peppermint, nurse! The Tumour said he'd "tell the manager," The Dropsy mumbled forth his bitterest curse; But still she wailed and wailed. And when we die We shall be sainted for forgiving her.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"We were all sore and broken and keen on sleep,..."
This evocative piece by Thomas William Hodgson Crosland, titled "The Baby In The Ward", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...