Valentine Song

Dearest, let these roses

    In their purity,

Be a present symbol

    Of my love for thee.

Underneath the blossom

    Thorns are sure to grow;

Take heed lest you touch them,

    They would pain you so!

Ah! my faults like thorns are,

    But cannot they be

Hidden 'neath the flower

    Of my love for thee?

Robert Argyle Campbell

Index to poems in the collection by Robert Argyle Campbell