ST. VALENTINE
The West Wind blew so sweet and cold,
The country wind and dear,
From fields and woods and gardens old
In the morning of the year.
The pleasant sparrows, rooks, and daws
Drank up that wind like wine,
And hailed the day with loud applause
And chatterings gay and fine,
Because
It was St. Valentine.
The country wind and dear,
From fields and woods and gardens old
In the morning of the year.
The pleasant sparrows, rooks, and daws
Drank up that wind like wine,
And hailed the day with loud applause
And chatterings gay and fine,
Because
It was St. Valentine.
The larks were fleeting near the earth,
And fluttering high and low;
The blackbird joined his golden mirth
To Spring's triumphal show.
The thrush was gathering twigs and straws
All day in that sweet shine,
And feathers from the briars and haws
Some bed of love to line,
Because
It was St. Valentine.
And fluttering high and low;
The blackbird joined his golden mirth
To Spring's triumphal show.
The thrush was gathering twigs and straws
All day in that sweet shine,
And feathers from the briars and haws
Some bed of love to line,
Because
It was St. Valentine.
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