Accept, dear girl, this little token, <br />And if between the lines you seek, <br />You'll find the love I've often spoken— <br />The love my dying lips shall speak. <br /> <br />Our little ones are making merry <br />O'er am'rous ditties rhymed in jest, <br />But in these words (though awkward—very) <br />The genuine article's expressed. <br /> <br />You are as fair and sweet and tender, <br />Dear brown-eyed little sweetheart mine, <br />As when, a callow youth and slender, <br />I asked to be your Valentine. <br /> <br />What though these years of ours be fleeting? <br />What though the years of youth be flown? <br />I'll mock old Tempus with repeating, <br />'I love my love and her alone!' <br /> <br />And when I fall before his reaping, <br />And when my stuttering speech is dumb, <br />Think not my love is dead or sleeping, <br />But that it waits for you to come. <br /> <br />So take, dear love, this little token, <br />And if there speaks in any line <br />The sentiment I'd fain have spoken, <br />Say, will you kiss your Valentine?<br /><br />Eugene Field<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-valentine-to-my-wife/
