Oh dear! what a fuss! It is certainty true.
Sweet Love is our ruler, whatever we do.
The lions and tigers his dainty whip feel;
He harnesses both to his chariot wheel.
Oh, none can escape. The eagle's fleet wing
Is no manner of use, or the hare's rapid spring.
The ostrich may stride, the eagle may fly,
But Love is their ruler—he ever is nigh.
The quick little rogue, with his whip and his wings,
He is ever about, and he ruleth all things;
And Mollie and Ted, as they hurry along,
Are only two more in his worshipping throng.
Oh, Love in the school-room has tenses and moods.
And Love in the kitchen quite often intrudes,
And Love o'er the ledger drops fancies of bliss.
Till the figures get mixed with the thought of a kiss;
And Love on the avenue raises his cap
To Love in the parlor with work in her lap,
And Love in a cottage or Love in a palace
Drink nectar alike from a cup or a chalice:
Let cross people scold, and let prim people frown.
Love reigns like a prince both in country and town.
Hurra for sweet Cupid! Ye laggards, give way,
While the lads and the lasses greet Valentine's Day.