“GIVE me the prettiest valentine
You’ve got in the shop,’ said he,
‘One with the tenderest sort o’ line,
In type that her eyes can see.
One that she won’t need her specs to read,
‘I love you my darling,’ is all I need.
‘A line o’ love from an old bald head,
An’ a throb from a battered heart;
An old skeezicks, with a feeble tread,
A lover, no longer smart.
An’ she ain’t as young as she used t’ be,
But she looks for her valentine still from me.
‘I wish they made old folks’ valentines,
With gray heads close together;
An’ printed ’em, too, with loving lines
About fair and stormy weather,
An’ showed the old man an’ his gray-haired wife
Walking arm in arm on the edge of life.
‘We’ve traveled the road from youth to age,
Without missin’ a single kiss;
In our book o’ life every written page
Has something o’ joy and bliss,
An’ though it ain’t long till we go above,
We ‘re nearing the end with a load o’ love.
‘So give me your prettiest valentine,
An’ I’ll send it along today
To that wonderful old sweetheart o’ mine,
Whose tresses are thin and gray.
But I wish they made valentines,’ said he,
‘For seventy-year lovers like ma an’ me.’