The birds begin their wooing now, and oh, their songs are gay;
You'd think, to hear their merry notes, 'twas in the midst o' May.
They fill the world with melody, and in the swaying pine
They call to one another, "Will you be my Valentine?"
Tis time that thou and I, sweetheart, should be a wooing too,
And in our hearts the pledge of love and happiness renew.
The saint that gave this day his name loved beauty such as thine,
And I would deem the winter spring, with thee my Valentine!
A woman sitting in a high-backed antique chair is looking thoughtful after opening the Valentine that came with her box of roses in this vintage illustration from 1908.