For All Who Ever Sent Lace Valentines

The little-boy lover And little-girl lover Met the first time At the house of a friend. And great the respect Of the little-boy lover. The awe and the fear of her Stayed to the end.

The little girl chattered Incessantly chattered, Hardly would look When he tried to be nice. But deeply she trembled The little-girl lover, Eaten with flame While she tried to be ice.

The lion of loving The terrible lion Woke in the two Long before they could wed. The world said: “Child hearts You must keep till the summer. It is not allowed That your hearts should be red.”

If only a wizard A kindly grey wizard Had built them a house In a cave underground. With an emerald door, And honey to eat! But it seemed that no wizard Was waiting around.

Oh children with fancies, The rarest of notions, The rarest of passions And hopes here below! Many a child, His young heart too timid Has fled from his princess No other to know.

I have seen them with faces Like books out of Heaven, With messages there The harsh world should read, The lions and roses and lilies of love, Its tender, mystic, tyrannical need.

Were I god of the village My servants should mate them. Were I priest of the church I would set them apart. If the wide state were mine It should live for such darlings, And hedge with all shelter The child-wedded heart.