A Valentine
What shall I send my love today
When all the woods attune to love,
And I would show the lark and dove
That I can love as well as they? ...
I'll send a kiss, for that would be
The quickest sent, the lightest borne;
And well I know to-morrow morn
She'll send it back again to me.
Go, happy winds! ah, do not stay
Enamour'd of my lady's cheek,
But hasten home, and I'll bespeak
Your services another day!
—Matilda Betham Edwards
To His Mistress, Objecting to His Neither Toying
nor Talking
You say I love not, 'cause I do not play
Still with your curls, and kiss the time away.
You blame me, too, because I can't devise
Some sport, to please those babies in your eyes;
By Love's religion, I must here confess it,
The most I love when I the least express it.
Small griefs find tongues; full casks are ever found
To give, if any, yet but little sound.
Deep waters noiseless are; and this we know,
That chiding streams betray small depths below.
So, when Love speechless is, she doth express
A depth in love, and that depth bottomless.
Now since my love is tongueless, know me such,
Who speak but little, 'cause I love so much.
—Robert Herrick
When You Are Old
When you are old and gray and full of sleep
And, nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.