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: 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 Elizabeth Richards. |