@article{hungerford_valentine_1891,
	title = {A {Valentine} {Villanelle} to {Kate}},
	volume = {43},
	shorttitle = {A {Valentine} {Villanelle} to {Kate}},
	url = {http://www.loc.gov},
	abstract = {ON this St. Valentine his day
The feathered songster woos his mate,
And each true lover chants his lay.

The lilting birds trill clear and gay,
And strive with song to pierce heavens gate,
On this St. Valentine his day.

The swelling buds show green to-day,
For tardy spring they scarce can wait,
And each true lover chants his lay.

The coyest maid yields to loves sway
(As troubadours old tales relate)
On this St. Valentine his day.

How easy Yes it were to say!
Let those sweet eyes consent to fate
While thy true lover chants his lay.

A word of cruel scorn like Nay
Should fall not from the lips of Kate
On this St. Valentine his day,
When each true lover chants his lay.},
	journal = {Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine},
	author = {Hungerford, Mary C.},
	year = {1891},
	keywords = {Appendix II Villanelles Done},
	pages = {639},
}

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