Poetry Archives

Sweet Love and I had oft communed;
  We were, indeed, great friends,
And oft I sought his office, near
  Where Courtship Alley ends.

I used to sit with him, and smoke,
  And talk of your blue eyes,
And argue how I best might act
  To make your heart my prize.

He always seemed to have much time
  To hear me tell my joy,
So that I came to deem him but
  An idle, lazy boy.

But on St. Valentine his day,
  I found him hard at work,
As if he had a mighty task
  And did not dare to shirk;

And o’er his head there hung a card
  That made me haste away;
It bore these words—
  Please make it short.
This is my busy day!

And so, Sweet maiden; if I send
  No valentine, you see
The reason here; Love could not waste
  His precious time on me!