Page:Etchings in Verse.djvu/82

'T is your fancy that hath wove,
Valerie,
This being whom you love,
Valerie.

For he's not of human birth,
He has never been on Earth—
But you know his nature's worth,
Valerie.

He's a dweller in the skies,
Valerie;
All unseen of other eyes,
Valerie.

And you'll turn to him on high,
Tho' we lords that love you sigh,
And for love of you would die,
Valerie.