The Valentine

THE VALENTINE 

From Westminster Drollery, 1672

As youthful day put on his best
Attire to usher morn,
And she to greet her glorious guest
Did her fair self adorn,
Up did I rise, and hide mine eyes
As I went through the street,
Lest 1 should one that I despise
Before a fairer meet.
And why
Was I,
Think you, so nice and fine ?
Well did I wot
(Who wots it not?)
It was Saint Valentine.

In fields by Thoebus great with young
Of flowers and hopeful buds,
Resembling thoughts that freshly sprung
In lovers' lively broods,
A damsel fair and fine I saw,
So fair and finely dight,
As put my heart almost in awe
To attempt a mate so bright;
But O
Why so?
Her purpose was like mine,
And readily
She said as I
" Good morrow, Valentine."

A fair of love we kept awhile:
She for each word I said
Gave me two smiles, and for each smile

I her two kisses paid.

The violet made haste to appear,

To be her bosom-guest,

With first primrose that grew this year

I purchased for her breast :

Tome

Gave she

Her golden lock for mine;

My ring of jet,

For her bracelet,

I gave my Valentine.

Subscribed with a line of love

My name for her I wrote;

In silk for me her name she wove

Whereto this was her mot,

"As shall this year thy truth appear

I still, my dear, am thine ; "

" Your mate to-day, and love for aye,

If you so say," was mine.

While thus

On us

Each others favours shine.

" No more have we

To change," quoth she

" Now farewell, Valentine."

"Alas," said I, " let friends not seem

Between themselves so strange

The jewels both we dear'st esteem

You know are yet to change."

She answers " No," yet smiles as though

Her tongue her thought denies!

Who truth of maiden's mind will know

Must seek it in her eyes.

She blush'd,

I wish'd

Her heart as free as mine,

She sight l and sware

"In sooth you are

Too wanton, Valentine."

Yet I such further favour won

By suit and pleasing play,

She vow'd what now was left undone

Should finish'd be in May;

And though perplex'd with such delay

As more augments desire,

Twixt present grief and promised joy,

I from my mate retire:

If she

To me

Preserves her vows divine

And constant troth,

She shall be both

My love and Valentine.

From Westminster Drollery, 1672.