Читать книгу Heart Songs - Jean Blewett - Страница 4

IF I could speak in phrases fine,

Full sweet the words that I would say

To woo you for my valentine

Upon this February day.

But when I strive to tell you all,

The charms I see in your dear face,

A dumbness on me seems to fall—

O, sweetheart, let me crave your grace!

I fain would say your eyes of blue,

Like violets to me appear;

Shy blossoms, filled with heaven’s dew,

That throw their sweetness far and near.

How tender are your lips of red!

How like a rose each velvet cheek!

How bright the gold upon your head—

All this I’d say, if I could speak.

How warm your blushes come and go!

How maidenly your air and mien!

How pure the glances you bestow—

Wilt be my Valentine, O Queen?

The angels walking at your side,

Methinks have lent their charms to you,

For in the world so big and wide,

There is not one so good and true.

If I had but the gift of speech,

Your beauty and your grace to prove,

Then might I find a way to reach

Your heart, and all its wealth of love.

Then, sweetheart, take the good intent—

Truth has no need of phrases fine—

Repay what long ago I lent,

And be to-day my Valentine.