NOT youth pertains to me,Nor delicatesse—I cannot beguile the time with talk;Awkward in the parlor, neither a dancer nor elegant;In the learn'd coterie sitting constrain'd and still—for learning inures not to me;Beauty, knowledge, inure not to me—yet there are two or three things inure to me;I have nourish'd the wounded, and sooth'd many a dying soldier.And at intervals, waiting, or in the midst of camp,Composed these songs.