Valentine's Day

I love this Valentine card/fan that my grandfather sent to my grandmother when they were "courting."

To my Heart's Elect. Sweetheart think of me.

What the bee is to the floweret,
When he looks for honey-dew,
Through the leaves that close embower it,
That, my love, I'll be to you.

What the bank with verdure glowing,
Is to waves that wander near,
Whispering kisses, while they're going,
That I'll be to you, my dear.
                                Moore

With love and devotion. My heart's gift.


I googled the poem and found out it was written by Thomas Moore, the Irish Catholic son of a Dublin grocer, and published in Irish Melodies between 1807 and 1834 with accompanying music.

According to allpoetry.com:  Moore, despite his humble background, "became the fashionable versifier of Regency England. His Irish Melodies ... were an immense success, and for many years his wit, charm, liberalism, and singing voice made him a brilliant figure in literary and social circles, especially among the aristocratic Whig reformers. The same qualities made him one of Byron's closest friends. He wrote numerous satires, lampoons, and prose pieces." This poem was sung to the tune of The Yellow Horse, an Irish melody described as a "lively dance tune."

The card and its history seem fitting for James Connell, a working class Irishman in 1908, from Jersey City, to send to his 27 year old sweetheart, Miss Mary (Daisy) Bailey of Hoboken.

I also love the handwritten note on the back of the fan:
"Miss D. Bailey Feb14th 08 From Jim"

An elaborately scripted letter F (which could have started out as an L)  makes me wonder if my grandfather debated signing the card "Love". But, I'm not sure that would have been a popular closing in 1908, where more formal language and customs prevailed. (I think that's part of our collective fascination with Downton Abbey--we are enamored of the formal manners of society, both upstairs and down--and, of course, the British accents help.)

As a footnote to the valentine, my grandparents were married two years later and raised six children in Hoboken and later North Bergen. My grandfather worked hard as supervisor of a large department of workers at the local power company. He died in his early 50's of a heart attack, when my mother was just graduating high school at age 16. My grandmother Daisy lived until age 91 and loved to sing. Her favorite song? --- Not The Yellow Horse or What the Bee is to the Floweret, but Daisy Bell with the familiar chorus of Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do.  Perhaps that was how James proposed?