And they (as sure became them best) To Austin and Paulinius’ hest Obediently submitted, And left the land without delay-- Save Cupid, who still held a sway Too strong to passively obey, Or be by saints outwitted. For well the boy-god knew that he Was far too potent, e’er to be Depos’d and exil’d quietly From his belov’d dominion; And sturdily the urchin swore He ne’er, to leave the British shore, Would move a single pinion. The saints at this were sadly vex’d, And much their holy brains perplex’d, To bring the boy to reason; And, when they found him bent to stay, They built up convent-walls straightway, And put poor Love in prison. But Cupid, though a captive made, Soon met, within a convent shade, New subjects in profusion: Albeit he found his pagan name Was heard by pious maid and dame With horror and confusion. For all were there demure and coy, And deem’d a rebel heathen boy A most unsaintly creature; But Cupid found a way with ease His slyest vot’ries tastes to please, And yet not change a feature. For, by his brightest dart, the elf Affirm’d he’d turn a saint himself, To make their scruples lighter; So gravely hid his dimpled smiles, His wreathed locks, and playful wiles, Beneath a bishop’s mitre. Then Christians rear’d the boy a shrine. And youths invok’d Saint Valentine To bless their annual passion; And maidens still his name revere, And, smiling, hail his day each year-- A day to village lovers dear, Though saints are out of fashion. A. S. Monthly Magazine. * * * * * Another is pleased to treat the prevailing topic of the day as one of those “whims and oddities,” which exceedingly amuse the reading world, and make e’en sighing lovers smile. SONG FOR THE 14TH OF FEBRUARY. _By a General Lover._ “Mille gravem telis exhaustâ pene pharetrâ.” Apollo has peep’d through the shutter, And waken’d the witty and fair; The boarding-school belle’s in a flutter, The twopenny post’s in despair: The breath of the morning is flinging A magic on blossom, on spray; And cockneys and sparrows are singing In chorus on Valentine’s Day. Away with ye, dreams of disaster, Away with ye, visions of law, Of cases I never shall master, Of pleadings I never shall draw: Away with ye, parchments and papers. Red tapes, unread volumes, away; It gives a fond lover the vapours To see you on Valentine’s Day. I’ll sit in my nightcap, like Hayley, I’ll sit with my arms crost, like Spain, Till joys, which are vanishing daily, Come back in their lustre again: Oh, shall I look over the waters, Or shall I look over the way, For the brightest and best of Earth’s daughters, To rhyme to on Valentine’s Day?