A Valentine

There is a little maid
Of whom I'm much afraid.
Shall I confess it?
She wears a sealskin coat;
Its grace and shape I note
And needs must bless it.

She wears a little bonnet:
A bird that's perched upon it
To fly seems ready.
My heart, not over-bold,
When her I do behold,
Goes quite unsteady.

She has a little muff
In which, from breezes rough,
Her hands find shelter.
My wits, when her I see
Clad all so daintily,
Fly helter-skelter.

Who is this little maid
Of whom I'm so afraid?
Dare I reveal it?
This little maid is she
Whose eyes these verses see;
I can't conceal it.

But if she should divine
I'd be her valentine,
As here I sing it,
I'll dare to hope she may
Be surely mine some day.
Sweet skies, soon bring it.