A VALENTINE.
Dear Lydia, long before your time,
When I was half the 'teen you own to,
Don Valentine was in his prime,
The world not yet the thing it's grown to.
The postman then with double knocks
This morning many a heart was thrilling,
And brought a shining cardboard box
With round red hearts in paper frilling.
A simpler world, and well content
With what seems small by modern measure;
And winters came and roses went,
Yet Time dulls pain as well as pleasure.
Though, with this fashion out of date,
His hand to-day weighs almost lightly
If this my war-time chocolate
Makes two dark eyes to shine more brightly.