by Augustus Antrobus

Guardian angel, stooping down
    O'er this house of pain,

Send thy healing ministry
    To us all again,

Soft the feet of white-robed nurse
    Moving in the hall,

Valley lilies in her hair,
    Answers to our call.

Though the hours drag slowly on,
    Day seems far away,

Yet we know the angel white
    Is near to us to stay.