A Valentine.
My life is grown a witchcraft place
Through gazing on thy form and face.
Now 't is thy Smile's soft sorcery
That makes my soul a melody.
Now 't is thy Frown, that comes and goes,
That makes my heart a page of prose.
Some day, perhaps, a word of thine
Will change me to thy Valentine.
A Catch.
When roads are mired with ice and snow,
And the air of morn is crisp with rime;
When the holly hangs by the mistletoe,
And bells ring in the Christmas time:—
It's—Saddle, my Heart, and ride away,
To the sweet-faced girl with the eyes of gray!
Who waits with a smile for the gifts you bring—
A man's strong love and a wedding-ring—
It's—Saddle, my Heart, and ride!
When vanes veer North and storm-winds blow,
And the sun of noon is a blur o'erhead;
When the holly hangs by the mistletoe,
And the Christmas service is sung and said:—
It's—Come, O my Heart, and wait awhile,
Where the organ peals, in the altar aisle,
For the gifts that the church now gives to you—
A woman's hand and a heart that's true.
It's—Come, O my Heart, and wait!