Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
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?….”
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….
“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!”….
O darlin’, darlin’, can’t you let it be
Nothin’ to you, an’ everythin’ to me?

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