That the gold is still there, as it goes in your pocket,
Let a thought or two, sweetheart, come straying to me.
I've explained as I could. Do you still go on sighing
For the commoner Valentine—tinsel and gauze,
With the pictures of wonderful cherubim flying
In a reckless defiance of natural laws?
If you do—well, forgive me. Don't think me unkind. You
Know I'd not treat yourself in so heartless a style,
And so let this gift, as you use it, remind you
Of one whom you won, my dear, outright, with your smile.