A dear little name I placed under my pillow
On St. Valentine's eve, just to work out a charm,
For 'twas said if I dreamed of the maiden who owned it,
I should wed her as certain as sunshine is warm:
And lo! in my sleep, a sweet vision came o'er me:
A fair-featured maiden--and beauteous as fair--
In attitude graceful stood smiling before me,
With eyes dark and lustrous, and brown flowing hair:
Her hand I took hold of, and gently endeavoured
The rosiest of rose-coloured lips to impress;
I whispered her name--and the vision departed:
The name that I whispered was--No: you must guess!