Classic Poem

1

The Spring's coming on, my dear;
The sun gets warm and high,
The winter storms are gone, my dear:
And brighter grows the sky.
Here's pansies for thy love my dear, —
How bright they smile and shine! —
Will you[r] love be what they appear,
My heart-ease Valentine?

2

For love is like the flowers of Spring,
Born for an Aprils day: —
The lusty suns that summers bring,
Burn all their blooms away.
Here's snow-drops for thy dark brown hair;
They are — though cold they shine, —
What woman should be, pure and fair,
Just like my Valentine.