Lace Valentine

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.