Ah, what avails the sceptred race!
Ah, what the form divine!
What every virtue, every grace!
Rose Aylmer, all were thine.
Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes
May weep, but never see,
A night of memories and sighs
I consecrate to thee.
-- Walter Savage Landor
I did not know her at all. It feels horrible now to wish I had. May she have left behind survivors.
To think that my last post featured a woman who had fought that same battle. And won. The irony.