Saint Valentine's Day.
Oh! little loveliest lady mine,
What shall I send for your valentine?
Summer and flowers are far away;
Gloomy old Winter is king to-day;
Buds will not blow, and sun will not shine:
What shall I do for a valentine?
I've searched the gardens all through and through
For a bud to tell of my love so true;
But buds are asleep and blossoms are dead,
And the snow beats down on my poor little head:
So, little loveliest lady mine,
Here is my heart for your valentine.
—Laura E. Richards.
Oh rank is gold, and gold is fair,
And high and low mate ill;
But love has never known a law
Beyond its own sweet will!
—John G. Whittier.