Some three, or five, or seven, and thirty years; <br />A Roman nose; a dimpling double-chin; <br />Dark eyes and shy that, ignorant of sin, <br />Are yet acquainted, it would seem, with tears; <br />A comely shape; a slim, high-coloured hand, <br />Graced, rather oddly, with a signet ring; <br />A bashful air, becoming everything; <br />A well-bred silence always at command. <br />Her plain print gown, prim cap, and bright steel chain <br />Look out of place on her, and I remain <br />Absorbed in her, as in a pleasant mystery. <br />Quick, skilful, quiet, soft in speech and touch . . . <br />'Do you like nursing?' 'Yes, Sir, very much.' <br />Somehow, I rather think she has a history.<br /><br />William Ernest Henley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lady-probationer/
