Classic Poem

One twilight was there when it seemed
New stars beneath young eyelids gleamed;

In vain the warning clock would creep
Anear the hour of beauty-sleep;

In vain the trundle yearned to hold
Far-Eyes and little Heart-of-Gold;

And love that kisses are the stuff of
At last for once there was enough of.

As though of all Affection's round
The fond climacteric had been found —

Each childish fancy heaping more,
Like spendthrift from a miser-store,

Till stopped by hug and stayed by kiss —
The sweet contention ran like this:

" How much do I love you? " (I remember but part
Of the words of the troth of this lover)
" I love you " — he said — " why — I love you — a heart
Brimful and running over.

" I love you a hundred! " said he, with a squeeze.
" A thousand! " said she, as she nestled;
" A million! " he cried in triumphant ease
While she with the numbers wrestled.

" Aha! I have found it! " she shouted, " aha! "
(The red to the soft cheeks mounting)
" I love you — I love you — I love you, Papa,
Over the last of the counting! "