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 time on me!

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

The Sheep

Ellis Parker Butler, Simple Poetry

A Satisfactory Reform

Ellis Parker Butler, Simple Poetry

Cupid Caught Napping

Ellis Parker Butler, Simple Poetry

Little Ballads Of Timely Warning; I: On Dishonesty Arising From Ignorance

Ellis Parker Butler, Simple Poetry

English

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A Valentine

At last, dear love, the day is gone,
    The doors are barred--the lamps are lit,
The couch beside the fire is drawn,
    The nook whore thou wert wont to sit;

The book is open at the place,
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    I cannot read, the book I shut,

And muse, and dream:--it is the day
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Find tongues in floral tokens gay,
    To whisper all they long to hear.

Ah, many a time, and many a time
    I saw the question in thine eyes,
Where is the silver-sounding rhyme,
    The simple household melodies,

The harp that trembled to thy touch;
    Hast thou forgot thine early lore?
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A Valentine

Sent to a friend who had complained that I was glad enough to see
him when he came, but didn't seem to miss him if he stayed away.

And cannot pleasures, while they last,
Be actual unless, when past,
They leave us shuddering and aghast,
With anguish smarting?
And cannot friends be firm and fast,
And yet bear parting?

And must I then, at Friendship's call,
Calmly resign the little all
(Trifling, I grant, it is and small)
I have of gladness,
And lend my being to the thrall
Of gloom and sadness?

And think you that I should be dumb,
And full Dolorum Omnium,
Excepting when you choose to come
And share my dinner?
At other times be sour and glum
And daily thinner?

Must he then only live to weep,
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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.

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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,
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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

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