~~~
Old Valentine again has come –
With joy to most, tho’ grief to some;
And we who are young and gay should be,
Free to receive him merrily.
So I, most humble though I be,
Would raise my voice in praise of thee;
And bowing lowly at thy shrine,
Become thy faithful Valentine.
~~~
Oh! had I but the magic art,
To express the feelings of my heart,
I’d bid my muse to plume her wings,
To soar above all earthly things.
~~~
~~~
But he who would praise excellence,
That’s true, and free from all pretence;
Must raise his thoughts afar above,
All else on earth except true love.
~~~
And I with wings unused to soar;
To realms so far above the sky
Could offer but a tribute poor,
To her whose praise I place so high,
~~~
To do thee justice well I see,
Would need a favoured Poet’s pen;
And I, not brave, but rash, would be,
To make the attempt: what can I then:
~~~
I needs must leave the tack undone,
Until some far more favored son,
Of song, shall raise in after days
Aided by Jove to sing thy praise.
~~~
~~~
Yet lest I fail entirely,
To win the heart I love so well;
I’ll write a few more lines, & try,
My heart’s best wishes even to tell.
~~~
Twas love first taught the birds to use,
This day, their annual mates to choose;
And shall not we my lady fair,
Follow the sweet birds of the air?
~~~
In all excepting one respect,
I’ll let them teach me to select;
They keep their mates but one short year,
While I through life would hold mine dear.
~~~
Then, by the magic power of love,
Or by those beaming eyes of thine;
I promise faithful e’er to prove,
If you’ll make me your Valentine
~~~
Feb: 14th 1848
Valentine poem excerpted from Mary Maillard, ed., The Belles of Williamsburg: The Courtship Correspondence of Eliza Fisk Harwood and Tristrim Lowther Skinner 1839-1849 (January 2015). Available at Kindle, Kobo, iBooks.