XVIII — CHILDREN: PRIVATE WARD

Here in this dim, dull, double-bedded room,

I play the father to a brace of boys,

Ailing but apt for every sort of noise,

Bedfast but brilliant yet with health and bloom.

Roden, the Irishman, is‘ sieven past,’

Blue-eyed, snub-nosed, chubby, and fair of face.

Willie's but six, and seems to like the place,

A cheerful little collier to the last.

They eat, and laugh, and sing, and fight, all day;

All night they sleep like dormice. See them play

At Operations: - Roden, the Professor,

Saws, lectures, takes the artery up, and ties;

Willie, self-chloroformed, with half-shut eyes,

Holding the limb and moaning — Case and Dresser.