There are three versions of this poem. only one of them is available on the internet. This first version is from the New Yorker in a 1941 issue. It is the earliest version and the one that is quoted all over the internet.

To My Valentine

    by Ogden Nash (1902-1971)

More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or the Axis hates the United States,
That's how much I love you.

I love you more than a duck can swim,
And more than a grapefruit squirts,
I love you more than gin rummy is a bore,
And more than a toothache hurts.

As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a hostess detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.

I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than the subway jerks,
I love you as much as a beggar needs a crutch,
And more than a hangnail irks.

I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As the High Court loathes perjurious oaths,
That's how you're loved by me.

The next version is the lyric of a song from the Broadway musical "One Touch of Venus" (1943) by Ogden Nash, J S Perelman and Kurt Weill. Nash wrote this lyric. It is not on the internet that I could find. I got it from the sheet music.

HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU

More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or the Axis hates the United States,
That's how much I love you.

As a sailor's sweetheart hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a wife detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.

I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than a hangnail hurts.
I love you more than commercials are a bore,
And more than a grapefruit squirts.

I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As a bride would resent a blessed event,
That's how you are loved by me.

More than a waitress hates to wait ,
Or a lioness hates the zoo,
Or a batter dislikes those called third strikes,
That's how much I love you.

As much as a lifeguard hates to swim,
Or a writer hates to read,
As Hays office frowns on low cut gowns,
That's how much you I need.


I love you more than a hive can itch,
And more than a chilblain chills.
I yearn for you in an ivy clad igloo,
As a liver yearns for pills.

I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As a dachshund abhors revolving doors,
That's how you are loved by me.

The third is from the book "Marriage Lines: notes of a student husband" It was published in 1964 and contains a revised version of the poem with a much different ending. This too is not on the internet. I got it from the book.

TO MY VALENTINE

More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or an odalisque hates the Sultan's mates,
That's how much I love you.

I love you more than a duck can swim,
And more than a grapefruit squirts,
I love you more than commercials are a bore,
And more than a toothache hurts.

As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a hostess detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.

I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than the subway jerks,
I love you truer than a toper loves a brewer,
And more than a hangnail irks.

I love you more than a bronco bucks,
Or a Yale man cheers the Blue.
Ask not what is this thing called love;
It's what I'm in with you.

Love is like drinking champagne in a Paris café,
you don't order it but you get it anyway so then
you sip it and it is good and yes, you like it.

So you taste it and it sparkles and from the outside
it looks so good, so you drink some more and you
begin to feel it and feeling dizzy you drink some
more.

Soon all is a mad swirl and everything looks so
different and you are happy-- you laugh and
then you get a little sick and you feel a pain and
you cry and your head aches.

You are sorry that you drank the stuff and you
swear that you will never touch it again but
after awhile you become used to it and hardened
to it.

You find that you like it and drink and drink
until finally you can go through with it
without a mar and you are called a toper.
                                                                          Jon York    2017

mar: damage, wreck, deface, deform, blight, blot, spoil, scar, stain,
toper: drink alcohol to excess, habitually

In marlow be he lopped of puneth steff
und marked léath in toper laked breath.
Larned of gyre within underparried smoth,
Through nigh for lone barnit do such men.

One sclarms in great hooroopalées
To know desous that legemont criney laves,
Und staphe und bemolie dank for tiny ravings
lund for farnitulobomy maketh scathing lathes.

With gear und glem Sten over themble tee,
Class teeblon fra noy in silver nins.
For durng broy al mar laked schees
Lar tophe maynansi tipple skins.

Thar léath ti maynansi ouvrer tair
Lop scollomis trayver lorna frayn.
Ab lasci nordich mosa far tibu glar.
Rate olvo vraydon seem us legemont clane.

Will 2019 be just as
grievous, or can a wish,
really change the previous?

What's written above was
always predicted, I am a
toper and cross addicted.

I live a life, of repetition,
yes, positive thinking,
but, with a premonition.

The dateline passes,
again despair, alone,
no hope, encore solitaire.

Imagine will you, another
year, in a cell, alone, yet
" justice is fair " ?

My new years wish won't
work for me, this one is for
Steven Avery.

Then, while you are counting,
to New Years Eve, three cheers
for Kathleen, and a reprieve!

                 <>

For Kathleen Trier Zellner.

Thank you.

Ryan O'Leary
Ireland.

I have been described as a
                    failed poet by a fellow AA
member who did so via a
                    mutual friend, also a toper
in his earlier days.
                   Now, I am president of The
Lead Poets Society whereby
                       all members must, by the
charter of our organisation,
                                  write in pencil only.
This decree, by me, was due
                to the perception people have
of my creativity, thus giving
                      all readers an opportunity
to alter or erase our works.
                A recent competition where I
entered a piece, headed "POET"
                    was completely rubbed out
but for the title, which had an
              additional (ICULE) in brackets.