163. Valentine to a Little Girl
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{290}
LITTLE maiden, dost thou pine |
For a faithful Valentine? |
Art thou scanning timidly |
Every face that meets thine eye? |
Art thou fancying there may be |
Fairer face than thou dost see? |
Little maiden, scholar mine, |
Wouldst thou have a Valentine? |
Go and ask, my little child, |
Ask the Mother undefiled: |
Ask, for she will draw thee near, |
And will whisper in thine ear:— {291} |
"Valentine! the name is good; |
For it comes of lineage high, |
And a famous family: |
And it tells of gentle blood, |
Noble blood,—and nobler still, |
For its owner freely pour'd |
Every drop there was to spill |
In the quarrel of his Lord. |
Valentine! I know the name, |
Many martyrs bear the same; |
And they stand in glittering ring |
Round their warrior God and King, — |
Who before and for them bled,— |
With their robes of ruby red, |
And their swords of cherub flame." |
Yes! there is a plenty there, |
Knights without reproach or fear,— |
Such St. Denys, such St. George, |
Martin, Maurice, Theodore, |
And a hundred thousand more; |
Guerdon gain'd and warfare o'er, |
By that sea without a surge, {292} |
And beneath the eternal sky, |
And the beatific Sun, |
In Jerusalem above, |
Valentine is every one; |
Choose from out that company |
Whom to serve, and whom to love. |
The Oratory.
1850. |
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