Poetry Archives

Last year I rhymed a valentine,
  And penned it on a dainty sheet
Of pink note paper; and I laid
  The offering at Kate’s feet.

I have a copy here at hand:
  “Oh! Dearest Kate!” the lines begin;
“Oh! Dearest Kate” has married since,—
  And now I strive fair Maude to win.

And so to-night I take my pen
  And, as my muse is slow of late,
I use that valentine again,—
  Just substituting “Maude” for “Kate.”