Lace Valentine

Robert Barret

I will set my heart on a grave lady
And go and leave it there.
She may toss it into a briar-bush
Or tangle it in her hair,
But I'll have done with my heart for the nonce-
And it's little enough I'll care.

For I follow fortune thither and yon,
And a heart is heavy to take.
It would soil on my sleeve from the kisses of thieves
Or tear in the thorny brake;
And hurts of the flesh are bitter enough
Without the dull heart's ache.

I would not love that grave lady,
For all her silver grace,
If she should credit an empty lad-
Yet when I've seen Life's face,
I'll come in quest of the thing I left,
Or have her own in its place.