Somebody's.

Oh, isn't it nice to be somebody's? -     Somebody's darling and pet,     To be shrined in the heart of a dear one,     Whose absence fills soul with regret?     To be dreamed of, and longed for, and courted,     As the Queen whom his heart holds in thrall, -     As the one - the great one, priceless jewel,     That outweighs and outvalues them all?     Oh, - I'd rather my head should be resting,     On the breast of the man that I love;     And my hand in his strong grasp be nestling,     And bask in the light of his love: -     I would rather, - far rather, my darling     Should be loving, and faithful, and brave,     Than be titled, and wealthy, and fickle; -     E'en though poverty held him a slave.     Oh, my heart yearns for one that is noble, -     In mind, not in riches or birth,     Who would love me, and value my love too,     Then my lot would be heaven on earth.     But where, alas, where shall I find him?     This man, that my heart longs for so?     This idol I picture and dream of, -     Does he live? I'm inclined to say, no.     He is merely a fanciful hero,     That my heart has pictured so fair:     I must stoop from my realm of wild fancy,     And take what may fall to my share.     Some plain, honest, working mechanic,     May be the prize I may call mine,     But if shaped like a man he'll be better,     Nor be left lonely, without Valentine.