Sweet, will you be my valentine?
And only mine, and ever mine,
And love me well as I love you,
And for your loving have in lieu--
What will you have?
I think you love me just a wee,
Though you so seldom look at me--
Ah! sweetheart, let me see your eyes,
And rescue love from your surprise
And modesty.
Ah! sweetheart, let me kiss your lips,
And even to your finger tips
I swear that you shall feel the glow
Of such new life-spring's ebb and flow
And gladsomeness
That all the joys you ever had
Shall seem insipid, lifeless, sad,
Shall fade and flee before the bliss
Love will awake with that kiss
From fairy-land.
'Tis winter yet; but spite of snows
And frost and cold, I send a rose
My loving care kept fresh and fair;
Sweet, will you wear it in your hair
This evening?
Love, will you wear it on your breast
And let your love be so confessed?
Ah me! no, wear it not--for I
I cannot dare the augury--
But may I hope?
