Her Valentine by James Whitcomb Riley
Somebody’s sent a funny little valentine to me.
It’s a bunch of baby-roses in a vase of filigree,
And hovering above them–just as cute as he can be–
Is a fairy Cupid tangled in a scarf of poetry.
And the prankish little fellow looks so knowing in his glee,
With his golden bow and arrow, aiming most unerringly
At a pair of hearts so labeled that I may read and see
That one is meant for “One Who Loves,” and one is meant for me.
But I know the lad who sent it! It’s as plain as A-B-C!–
For the roses they are blushing, and the vase stands awkwardly,
And the little god above it–though as cute as he can be–
Can not breathe the lightest whisper of his burning love for me.