A VALENTINE.
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She that is fair, though never vain or proud,
More fond of home than fashion's changing crowd;
Whose taste refined even female friends admire,
Dressed not for show, but robed in neat attire;
She who has learned, with mild, forgiving breast,
To pardon frailties, hidden or confest;
True to herself, yet willing to submit,
More swayed by love, than ruled by worldly wit;
Though young, discreet,—though ready, ne'er unkind,
Blessed with no pedant's, but a Woman's mind;—
She wins our hearts, towards her our thoughts incline,
So at her door go leave my Valentine.
More fond of home than fashion's changing crowd;
Whose taste refined even female friends admire,
Dressed not for show, but robed in neat attire;
She who has learned, with mild, forgiving breast,
To pardon frailties, hidden or confest;
True to herself, yet willing to submit,
More swayed by love, than ruled by worldly wit;
Though young, discreet,—though ready, ne'er unkind,
Blessed with no pedant's, but a Woman's mind;—
She wins our hearts, towards her our thoughts incline,
So at her door go leave my Valentine.