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Poem	Sweet Love and I had oft communed; We were, indeed, great friends, And oft I sought his office, near Where Courtship Alley ends. I used to sit with him, and smoke, And talk of your blue eyes, And argue how I best might act To make your heart my prize. He always seemed to have much time To hear me tell my joy, So that I came to deem him but An idle, lazy boy. But on St. Valentine his day, I found him hard at work, As if he had a mighty task And did not dare to shirk; And o’er his head there hung a card That made me haste away; It bore these words— Please make it short. This is my busy day! And so, Sweet maiden; if I send No valentine, you see The reason here; Love could not waste His precious time on me!
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