Memoirs of Anne C. L. Botta/To the same

          Thy patron, good St. Valentine,
             Who lived so long ago,
          Watched only over happy hearts,
             As all true lovers know.
          But thou, born on his natal day,
             A truer saint I find;
          While he alone the happy loved,
             Thou lovest all thy kind.

          Through all the sorrows, woes, and ills of life,
             That cloud our earthly road,
          Serene through discord, danger, storm, and strife,
             Thou seem'st to walk with God.
          And so thy gracious presence ever sheds
             A light as from above—
          A light that all thy being overspreads
             With Faith, and Hope, and Love.