ST. VALENTINE’S DAY.
85
But I fear I’m a bit of sceptic,
For I hadn’t much faith in the charm,
Still I thought to myself, “I will try it,
As it surely can do no harm.”
And the moon shed its glories around me
As I whispered the quaint old rhyme,
And of course, dear, I need not tell you
I was thinking of you all the time.
Oh! I whispered it ever so softly
For fear I might be overheard,
But the moon and the stars seemed to listen
And I know that they caught every word.
And I fancied the moon was smiling
And the stars seemed to laugh overhead,
And I felt half ashamed of my folly
As I silently crept to my bed.
But, dear, I awoke in the morning
Convinced that the charm was true,
And I know that the good Saint heard me,
For, darling, I dreamed of you.
