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Show y4 IWCCQ-ESS I long had loved a winsome maid. But when my timid tongue essayed. Without avail, to tell the tale, I then resolved, though lips might fall, That pen Bhould speak and so I wrote My lady an impassioned note. In every phrase to lovers sweet, 1 laid niy homage at her feet; Extolled her face and form in fine, I humbly begged that she'd be mine. Then wreathed it round with bloom and vfne, And signed It thus: "Thy Valentine." That eve we met I'll ne'er forget Its pain pervades my being yet. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright With young affection's tender light "Dear Jack," said she, "you ought to see The valentine that came to me. " 'Twas twined in roses all ablow, And arrows sped from Cupid's bow; And in the midst a rhythmic line That breathed such burning love divine It made my heart with rapture thrill I knew at once that 'twas from Will." "To you, dear Jack, I may confess," She said, unheeding my distress, "That love is blind, or Will would see I'm quitp as much In love as he; But he is such a bashful beau I wish you'd kindly tell him so." Moral When next I pen a lovelorn line, I'l sign It "Jack," not "Valentine." Harriet Bunker Austin, In National Magazine. |