I May Be Compelled To Face Danger,

Everybody's Business Is Nobody's Business, And Nobody's Business Is My Business.

I Don't Know How Long It Has Been Since My Ear Has Been Free From The Roll Of A Drum. It Is The Music I Sleep By, And I Love It.... I Shall Remain Here While Anyone Remains, And Do Whatever Comes To My Hand. I May Be Compelled To Face Danger, But Never Fear It, And While Our Soldiers Can Stand And Fight, I Can Stand And Feed And Nurse Them.

I May Sometimes Be Willing To Teach For Nothing, But If Paid At All, I Shall Never Do A Man's Work For Less Than A Man's Pay.

My Business Is Stanching Blood And Feeding Fainting Men; My Post The Open Field Between The Bullet And The Hospital. I Sometimes Discuss The Application Of A Compress Or A Wisp Of Hay Under A Broken Limb, But Not The Bearing And Merits Of A Political Movement. I Make Gruel--not Speeches; I Write Letters Home For Wounded Soldiers, Not Political Addresses.

I Wonder If A Soldier Ever Does Mend A Bullet Hole In His Coat?