Fairest Maid, where all is fair

Written to a distant cousin, Sarah Townsend, many times removed from Colonel John Simcoe, in the winter if 1779. Perhaps the first recorded Valentine in America. She is also reputed to have been a member of the Culper Ring of Patriot spies serving George Washington and the first to alert Washington to Benedict Arnold's planned betrayal.

Fairest Maid, where all is fair
Beauty's pride and Nature's care;
To you my heart I must resign
O choose me for your Valentine!

Love, Mighty God! Thou know'st full well
Where all thy Mother's graces dwell,
Where they inhabit and combine
To fix thy power with spells divine;

Thou know'st what powerful magick lies
Within the round of Sarah's eyes,
Or darted thence like lightning fires
And Heaven's own joys around inspires;

Thou know'st my heart will always prove
The shrine of pure unchanging love!
Say; awful God! Since to thy throne
Two ways that lead are only known-

Here gay Variety presides,
And many a youthful circle guides
Through paths where lilies, roses sweet,
Bloom and decay beneath their feet;

Here constancy with sober mein
Regardless of the flowery Scene
With Myrtle crowned that never fades,
In silence seeks the Cypress Shades,

Or fixed near Contemplation's cell,
Chief with the Muses loves to dwell,
Leads those who inward feel and burn
And often clasp the abandon'd urn,--

Say, awful God! Did'st thou not prove
My heart was formed for Constant love?
Thou saw'st me once on every plain
To Delia pour the artless strain -

Thou wept'sd her death and bad'st me change
My happier days no more to range
O'er hill, o're dale, in sweet Employ,
Of singing Delia, Nature's joy;

Thou bad'st me change the pastoral scene
Forget my Crook; with haughty mien
To raise the iron Spear of War,
Victim of Grief and deep Despair:

Say, must I all my joys forego
And still maintain this outward show?
Say, shall this breast that's pained to fell
Be ever clad in horrid steel?

Now swell with other joys than those
Of conquest o'er unworthy foes?
Shall no fair maid with equal fire
Awake the flames of soft desire:

My bosom born, for transport, burn
And raise my thoughts from Delia's urn?
"Fond Youth," the God of Love replies,
"Your answer take from Sarah's eyes."