To-Night

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Title:     To-Night
Author: Franklin P. Adams [More Titles by Adams]

Love me to-night! Fold your dear arms around me--
Hurt me--I do but glory in your might!
Tho' your fierce strength absorb, engulf, and drown me,
Love me to-night!

The world's wild stress sounds less than our own heart-beat
Its puny nothingness sinks out of sight.
Just you and I and Love alone are left, sweet--
Love me to-night!

Love me to-night! I care not for to-morrow--
Look in my eyes, aglow with Love's own light:
Full soon enough will come daylight, and sorrow--
Love me to-night!
--BEATRICE M. BARRY, in the Banquet Table.

We can't to-night! We're overworked and busy;
We've got a lot of paragraphs to write;
Although your invitation drives us dizzy,
We can't to-night!

But, Trixie, we admit we're greatly smit with
The heart you picture--incandescent, white.
We must confess that you have made a hit with
Us here to-night.

O Beatrice! O Tempora! O Heaven!
List to our lyre the while the strings we smite;
Where shall you be at--well, say half-past seven
To-morrow night?

[The end]
Franklin P. Adams's poem: To-Night

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