Valentine, A

     The saint of whom they say
     That he set apart this day
          For the mating of the flyers
     Knew nothing how to time it
     For our frisky Yankee climate
With the sleets and slosh and overcoats & the need of furnace fires!

     The chick-adee that sees
     Among these naked trees
          A place for keeping house in
     Is not so wise as Salon
     Nor as we who’re putting cod on
To make a lodge not quite severe enough to freeze a mouse in!

     But human flocks and herds
     Are not so weak as birds
          And need n’t mind the weather;
     The colder ‘tis the snugger
     Will Jack incline to hug her
When he—(her Valentine) and Gill are sitting up together!

     And as for me and Mine,
     I will be her Valentine
          Whenever she is willing
     In August or September,
     October or November
Or this 14th of February, set for cooing and for billing!

     In all days of the year
     She is just as good and dear,
          And I am as glad to serve her;
     For she’s a lovely creature,
     Superb in form and feature
And worth true allegiance with an unabated fervor.

     We have no doves and darts
     To symbolize our hearts,
          To stick them past or wing them;
     They hold their place together
     By true love’s silken tether
That limits not their freedom, nor the treasures it can bring them!