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The Kia ora coo-ee : the magazine for the ANZACS in the Middle East, 1918
Sister
Sister
Who wakes you up at break of day,
With a generous dose of M.D.A.?
A vision sweet in white array,
Oh Sister!
Who slaps on foments boiling hot,
Rubs "bluestone" on a tender spot;
Whether you want her to, or not?
Ah Sister!
Who, with a probe and yards of gauze
Stirs round your wounds without a pause?
"Be brave!" She says, and smiles because,
She's Sister,
Who sees that you have tidy hair—
Your face gets washed, your bed's made [square;
Who keeps your mind so free from care?
Our Sister.
Who cares not when the lead you swing,
Who gives to you the piece of string,
Yet tells the Doctor everything?
Yes, Sister.
Who smoothes the pillow for your head,
And cuts for you your daily bread,
And sees you do not go unfed?
Oh Sister.
A ministering Angel, oh art thou,
Who soothes the hot and fevered brow,
It is to thee we humbly bow,
Dear Sister.