This page has been validated.
A VALENTINE.
59
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,
Who'd prove his friendship true and deep,
By day a lonely shadow creep,
At night rest badly,
Oft muttering in his broken sleep
The name of Radley?
The lover, if, for certain days,
His fair one be denied his gaze,
Sinks not in grief and wild amaze,
But, wiser wooer,
He spends the time in writing lays,
And posts them to her.
