Classic Poem

To her whose glamour moves and stirs
And bids me try to do her honour,
Whose peerless beauty made me hers
The first time I laid eyes upon her —
Whose profile thrilled my boyish dream
And made a shrine for youthful passion,
Whose magic is the chosen theme
Her lovers praise, each in his fashion —
Who turns her ever-changing face
To fit the moods that men bring to her,
And in her heart can find a place
For all who venturously woo her —
To her who, beautiful and great,
Deserves a more pretentious ditty —
To her, in love, I dedicate
This Valentine — to New York City!