| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Nocturne | | By John V. A. Weaver |
| | | “NOTHIN’ or everythin’ it’s got to be,” | |
| You says, and hides your face down on my arm. | |
| “If it meant nothin’, ’twouldn’t do no harm, | |
| Or either everythin’—but this way—see?….” | |
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| I feel your tremblin’ heart against my coat, | 5 |
| An’ the big arc-light moon grins down so cool, | |
| “Go on!” I think it says, “you softie fool!”…. | |
| I love you so it hurts me in my throat…. | |
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| “Don’t make me kiss you; sure, I know you could,” | |
| You’re pleadin’, “An’ we gone too far for play; | 10 |
| I care a lot …. but yet not so’s to say | |
| I love you yet…. Aw, help me to be good!”…. | |
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| O darlin’, darlin’, can’t you let it be | |
| Nothin’ to you, an’ everythin’ to me? | | | | |
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