FROM A PERSON IN COMFORTABLE CIRCUMSTANCES TO HIS FAVOURITE LADY. My charmer alone I shall please, Oh, she shall all others outshine; I’ll promise her comfort and ease, If I be her chosen Valentine. ANSWER OF COMPLIANCE. You promise me fair I confess, And so to your suit I’ll incline; If, Sir, all be true you profess, You, then, are my chosen Valentine. ANSWER OF REJECTION. I know you’ve money at command, But you are miserly and near; Your birth is good I understand, But you are very cross I hear. When we such qualities combine, Who could esteem the Valentine? FROM A MINOR, TO A LADY EQUALLY AS YOUNG. You’ll say I am to young, I know, To be a Valentine for thee-- But thou art young, my dear, and so, A happy union it must be. ANSWER OF COMPLIANCE. We both are young, and as they say, That Jan’ary shouldn’t join with May; None can assign a cause complete, Why May and May shouldn’t always meet. ANSWER OF REJECTION. All my relatives agree, I am too young in love to be-- Six or seven years or nine, Then I’ll be your Valentine. FROM A GENTLEMAN TO A RICH LADY. Altho’ I’m neither rich nor poor, Yet boldly do I speak; It is your hand alone be sure, And not your wealth I seek. For fear you think I make too free, I now shall only say, That if my Valentine you’ll be, My best respects I’ll pay. ANSWER OF COMPLIANCE. I like your candour I confess, It is with truth replete-- And since you know, Sir, my address, No doubt we soon shall meet. ANSWER OF REJECTION. Love never has your muse inspir’d, And therefore state the fact; It is my fortune that’s admir’d-- No other charms attract. TO A LADY. My father in business does well, I’m sure he will leave it to me; I hope then my charmer will tell, If she’ll my dear Valentine be. ANSWER OF COMPLIANCE. As you my blushes cannot see, I’ll to th’ affirmative incline; And trust we both shall happy be, When we’re each other’s Valentine. ANSWER OF REJECTION. Your father’s business, Sir, may slip Thro’ his own hands:--the proverb’s true-- Much falls between the cup and lip; So take this answer and adieu. FROM A GENTLEMAN. O! who can tell the heart’s emotion? Who can well the power reveal? The painful, pleasing, soft commotion, The hopes, the fears which lovers feel? How vainly I, whose bosom fraught With love, unchanging love to thee, Can show its truth, or raise a thought That’s equal to its power in me! FROM A GENTLEMAN. Dearer still art thou to me, Fairest maid, in whom I see All I must approve. Time, that with oblivious charm May the power of love disarm, Will but increase my love. TO A LADY.