University of Virginia Library

The VALENTINE.

Did not sufficiently my glory shine,
When you acknowledg'd me your Valentine?
But you must add new Trophies to your praise,
And make that Vassal rich you pleas'd to raise?
Thus generous Princes, when their pow'rs they show,
They Titles first, and then Estates bestow.
Madam, in this with Heav'n you share renown;
Which makes a Saint, and after gives a Crown.
Your costly gift though too too rich before,
Yet you with richer lines have gilded o're.
Lines, where each word, nay letter may be fit,
To prove a Cordial to decaying Wit.
A favour which at once I cannot know;
Since at each reading I see new ones grow:
Like th' Orange-Tree, whose fruit at once, and bloom
Blesses this Season, and the next to come.
But we, alas, who're only rich in dreams
Of Golden Sands, that pave Pactolus Streams.
Yet sadly find (when seriously we think)
No Sand but Pindust, and no Stream but Ink;
We can make no returns but thanks, and those
Would sound too flat, if only drest in Prose.
Your favour was obliging to excess;
'Tis fit my Gratitude should be no less.
And no expressions here can act that part,
Unless they be extracted from the heart.
Neither can these their purposes obtain,
If not in Verse, th' Elixir of the Brain.
Thus, Madam, when you have my chiefest store
Of brain, and heart, tis vain to offer more.