  IF I could speak in phrases fine, Full sweet the words that I would say To woo you for my valentine Upon this February day. But when I strive to tell you all, The charms I see in your dear face, A dumbness on me seems to fall— O, sweetheart, let me crave your grace! I fain would say your eyes of blue, Like violets to me appear; Shy blossoms, filled with heaven’s dew, That throw their sweetness far and near. How tender are your lips of red! How like a rose each velvet cheek! How bright the gold upon your head— All this I’d say, if I could speak. How warm your blushes come and go! How maidenly your air and mien! How pure the glances you bestow— Wilt be my Valentine, O Queen? The angels walking at your side, Methinks have lent their charms to you, For in the world so big and wide, There is not one so good and true. If I had but the gift of speech, Your beauty and your grace to prove, Then might I find a way to reach Your heart, and all its wealth of love. Then, sweetheart, take the good intent— Truth has no need of phrases fine— Repay what long ago I lent, And be to-day my Valentine. [Decorative image unavailable. |
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