Wouldst ask by whom these simple lines are sent?
Oh! seek the meaning of their true intent;
The sender’s name I leave you to divine,
But Love’s the purport of my Valentine.
To tell thee of my passion true,
Of all that I have felt for you,
Of what I ne’er can cease to feel,
I would, but cannot now, reveal.
A Valentine will not admit
Sufficient space to compass it;
A single line must serve to own
I love but you, and you alone.
Should this my frank avowal give
Delight to you, for whom I live,
Let the reply which you transmit,
In candid terms acknowledge it.
To listen to thy tuneful voice, to gaze upon thy face,
To share with thee, dear Valentine, the virtuous embrace,
Such tender and such pure delight as often as I’ve proved,
So often have I felt how much and truly I have loved.
The charm that best can sweeten life,
Is found to be a faithful wife;
She shares our bliss, she soothes our wo,
With kindness love alone can know;
The wife I seek—good, kind, and true,
Love whispers—I shall find in you.
Present or absent, I love thee more
Than youth ever loved his dear fair one before;
Present or absent, that love can impart
The sweetest emotions that gladden the heart.
My vow I have registered, ever to prove
True, constant, sincere, and faithful in love;
I ask, in return, but the wish to enshrine,
The prayer of my heart on the tablet of thine.
