A St. Valentine's Day Tragedy

Oh! Montmorency Vere de Vere,
To think that one I held so dear
Should use a base deceivers art
To trifle with my loving heart.

A brand new ten-cent valentine
With lace and hearts and verses fine,
I sent to show my love for thee
And in return you send to me
The one I sent to you last year,
Oh! Montmorency Vere de Vere.

Ellis Parker Butler

Ellis Parker Butler was an American author, humorist, and poet, best known for his short story 'Pigs Is Pigs.' Born on December 5, 1869, in Muscatine, Iowa, Butler became a prolific writer, contributing to numerous magazines and books over his career. He is remembered for his wit and humor, which marked his work. Butler passed away on September 13, 1937.

Ellis Parker Butler

To Kate. ( In Lieu Of A Valentine )

Ellis Parker Butler, Simple Poetry

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Ellis Parker Butler, Simple Poetry

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Ellis Parker Butler, Simple Poetry

English

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Valentines - I. To Mistress Barbara

There were three cavaliers, all handsome and true,
On Valentine's day came a maiden to woo,
And quoth to your mother: "Good-morrow, my dear,
We came with some songs for your daughter to hear!"

Your mother replied: "I'll be pleased to convey
To my daughter what things you may sing or may say!"

Then the first cavalier sung: "My pretty red rose,
I'll love you and court you some day, I suppose!"

And the next cavalier sung, with make-believe tears:
"I've loved you! I've loved you these many long years!"

But the third cavalier (with the brown, bushy head
And the pretty blue jacket and necktie of red)
He drew himself up with a resolute air,
And he warbled: "O maiden, surpassingly fair!
I've loved you long years, and I love you to-day,
And, if you w...

Eugene Field

To Kate. ( In Lieu Of A Valentine )

Sweet Love and I had oft communed;
We were, indeed, great friends,
And oft I sought his office, near
Where Courtship Alley ends.

I used to sit with him, and smoke,
And talk of your blue eyes,
And argue how I best might act
To make your heart my prize.

He always seemed to have much time
To hear me tell my joy,
So that I came to deem him but
An idle, lazy boy.

But on St. Valentine his day,
I found him hard at work,
As if he had a mighty task
And did not dare to shirk;

And oer his head there hung a card
That made me haste away;
It bore these words,
Please make it short.
This is my busy day!

And so, Sweet maiden; if I send
No valentine, you see
The reason here; Love could not waste
His precious...

Ellis Parker Butler

St. Valentine.

    The girl's a slender thing and fair,
    With dimpled cheek and eyes ashine;
    The youth is tall, with bashful air.
    Heigho! a fond and foolish pair -
        The day is yours, St. Valentine.

    He says: "My heart will constant prove,
    Since every beat of it is thine;
    The sweetest joy of life is love."
    The birds are mating in the grove -
        The day is yours, St. Valentine.

    What matter that the wind blows chill
    Through leafless tree and naked vine,
    That snowdrifts linger on the hill,
    When warm love makes the pulses thrill?
        The day is yours, St. Valentine.

Jean Blewett

My Valentine.

I.

I passed her on the crowded street--
This winsome maid, demure and sweet--
And envious saw the silken tresses
That seemed to give her cheeks caresses,
And rapture felt that thrilled me through
When on me glanced those eyes of blue
From underneath the drooping lashes
That could not hide their azure flashes!
And oh, I dreampt of bliss divine
If she would be--my Valentine!


II.

And visions of as fair a face
As painter's pencil e'er did trace
Would haunt the mind each waking hour,
And slumber owned its magic power--
Until I found by merest chance
That belladonna made the glance,
And borrowed hair had lent its aid
For silken tresses of this maid--
And padding--paint--did all combine
To make for me--my Valentine!

George W. Doneghy

Valentine To The Girl In Black

In hand I take this pen of mine
To write you, sweet, a valentine;
Id take your dainty hand instead,
Butyoure a drawing - I am wed
And that is why, you understand,
I only take my pen in hand.

Ellis Parker Butler

Her Valentine

Somebody's sent a funny little valentine to me.
It's a bunch of baby-roses in a vase of filigree,
And hovering above them - just as cute as he can be -
Is a fairy Cupid tangled in a scarf of poetry.

And the prankish little fellow looks so knowing in his glee,
With his golden bow and arrow, aiming most unerringly
At a pair of hearts so labeled that I may read and see
That one is meant for "One Who Loves," and one is meant for me.

But I know the lad who sent it! It's as plain as A-B-C! -
For the roses they are blushing, and the vase stands awkwardly,
And the little god above it - though as cute as he can be -
Can not breathe the lightest whisper of his burning love for me.

James Whitcomb Riley