(Or the vigilantes)

Interminable folds of gauze
For those whom we shall never see....
Remember, when your fingers pause,
That every drop of blood to stain
Their whiteness, falls for you and me,
Part of the price that keeps us free
To serve our own, that keeps us clean
For shame that other women know....
O, saviours we have never seen,
Forgive us that we are so slow!
God—if that blood should cry in vain,
And we have let our moments go!

This poem is in the public domain.