Frederick William (FW) Harvey

(26 March 1888 – 13 February 1957 / Hartpury, Gloucestershire)

To the Unknown Nurse


Moth-like at night you flit or fly
To where the other patients lie ;
I hear, as you brush by my door
The flutter of your wings, no more.

Shall I now call you in and see
The phantom vanish instantly ?
Perhaps some sixteen stone or worse.
Suddenly falling through my verse !

Nay, be you sour, or be you sweet,
I'd see you not. Life's wisdom is
To keep one's dreams. Oh never quiz
The lovely lady in the street !

I knew a man who went large-eyed
And happy, till he bought pince-nez
And saw things as they were. He died
— A pessimist — the other day.

Submitted: Monday, April 02, 2012

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