I have found no love letters from my direct ancestors but my 5th cousin, Sarah Helen Whitman wrote this Valentine poem to Edgar Allan Poe.
"Midst the roaring of machinery,
And the dismal shriek of steam,
While each popinjay and parrot,
Makes the golden age his theme,
Oft, methinks, I hear thee croaking,
"All is but an idle dream."
While these warbling "guests of summer"
Prate of "Progress" evermore,
And, by dint of iron foundries,
Would this golden age restore,
Still, methinks, I hear thee croaking,
Hoarsely croaking, "Nevermore."