A Valentine ToastBy Ethel Morrison Lackey
A Valentine ToastBy Ethel Morrison Lackey
By Ethel Morrison Lackey
Here’s to the King of an Empire,Who rules with an absolute sway!With never a fear that PretendersAre scheming his kingdom away!His sceptre is only an arrow,His crown but a small, curvéd bow,Yet his subjects do yield such devotionAs no other monarch can know.For the empire he rules with such powerIs the world of Fond Lovers, and theyAre pledging their faith and allegianceOn this, their King’s own, sacred day.And so, with this host of true subjects,’Tis fitting his praises we sing,And drink, in joy’s wine, the glad toast“To Cupid—Long live the King!”
Here’s to the King of an Empire,Who rules with an absolute sway!With never a fear that PretendersAre scheming his kingdom away!His sceptre is only an arrow,His crown but a small, curvéd bow,Yet his subjects do yield such devotionAs no other monarch can know.For the empire he rules with such powerIs the world of Fond Lovers, and theyAre pledging their faith and allegianceOn this, their King’s own, sacred day.And so, with this host of true subjects,’Tis fitting his praises we sing,And drink, in joy’s wine, the glad toast“To Cupid—Long live the King!”
Here’s to the King of an Empire,Who rules with an absolute sway!With never a fear that PretendersAre scheming his kingdom away!
Here’s to the King of an Empire,
Who rules with an absolute sway!
With never a fear that Pretenders
Are scheming his kingdom away!
His sceptre is only an arrow,His crown but a small, curvéd bow,Yet his subjects do yield such devotionAs no other monarch can know.
His sceptre is only an arrow,
His crown but a small, curvéd bow,
Yet his subjects do yield such devotion
As no other monarch can know.
For the empire he rules with such powerIs the world of Fond Lovers, and theyAre pledging their faith and allegianceOn this, their King’s own, sacred day.
For the empire he rules with such power
Is the world of Fond Lovers, and they
Are pledging their faith and allegiance
On this, their King’s own, sacred day.
And so, with this host of true subjects,’Tis fitting his praises we sing,And drink, in joy’s wine, the glad toast“To Cupid—Long live the King!”
And so, with this host of true subjects,
’Tis fitting his praises we sing,
And drink, in joy’s wine, the glad toast
“To Cupid—Long live the King!”