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Rh Thee alone my heart desiring,

Only hopes thou wilt approve:

Only this from thee requiring—

Love returning equal love.

A something whisper’d in my ear,

Compose a Valentine,

And send it to thy only dear,

For then she may be thine.

I have compos’d this Valentine,

And send it, love, to thee;

And if, sweet maid, thou wilt be mine,

Thy Valentine I’ll be.

With rapture I receiv’d from thee,

Thy charming Valentine;

Believe me, Emma, charming maid!

That I am ever thine.

For ever festive be the hour

Thou didst thy flame impart;

Believe me, thou alone hast power

To captivate my heart.

Honour shall guide my every act,

And every wish inspire;

Honour shall light up Hymen’s torch,

And fan the sacred fire.

So then to church let us repair,

And there, my Valentine,

Thou wilt become my dearest spouse,

And I’ll be truly thine.

S hall I still in secret pine,

U nless you’ll be my Valentine?

S top a bit! a thought I’ve hit;

A nd if you wont, in short, be mine,

N o matter, love, if I am thine.

O say, then, dear possessor of my breast,

Where’s now my boasted liberty and rest?