I’ve searched the gardens all through and through
For a bud to tell of my love so true;
But buds are asleep, and blossoms are dead,
And the snow beats down on my poor little head:
So, little loveliest lady mine,
Here is my heart for your valentine!
Laura Elizabeth Richards.
ON A HYMN-BOOK
OLD hymn-book, sure I thought I’d lost you
In the days now long gone by;