Wooing His Valentine

IF I could speak in phrases fine,
Full sweet the words that I would say
To woo you for my valentine
Upon this February day.

But when I strive to tell you all,
The charms I see in your dear face,
A dumbness on me seems to fall—
O, sweetheart, let me crave your grace!

I fain would say your eyes of blue,
Like violets to me appear;
Shy blossoms, filled with heaven’s dew,
That throw their sweetness far and near.

How tender are your lips of red!
How like a rose each velvet cheek!
How bright the gold upon your head—
All this I’d say, if I could speak.

How warm your blushes come and go!
How maidenly your air and mien!
How pure the glances you bestow—
Wilt be my Valentine, O Queen?

The angels walking at your side,
Methinks have lent their charms to you,
For in the world so big and wide,
There is not one so good and true.

If I had but the gift of speech,
Your beauty and your grace to prove,
Then might I find a way to reach
Your heart, and all its wealth of love.

Then, sweetheart, take the good intent—
Truth has no need of phrases fine—
Repay what long ago I lent,
And be to-day my Valentine.