WHAT shall I write in this valentine?
The old refrain, "My heart is thine";
The sweetest flower of rarest hue,
Is paltry when compared with you"?
No, no, I'll write in grander strain,
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And throw aside that old refrain.
What shall I write in this valentine?
O for a laurel, the conqueror's sign!
Many a hope, full many a heart,
Hath fallen before thy Cupid's dart;
Many a victim bowed to thy rule,
And played his part in the lover's school.
Ay! twine a wreath of fairest flowers,
With here and there, from bygone hours,
Some withered rosebud, some crumpled glove,
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The Class Crews.
