Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
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Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
 
The White Moth
By Rosamond Langbridge
 
EVERY night
  At my windy, when
I quench the light
  Between nine an’ ten,
 
A White Moth        5
  Soars through the trees,
Light as the froth
  Blown off of the seas.
 
At the same time
  It flutters, white        10
In the scented lime—
  Every night.
 
Seems-like it is,
  When I draw the blind,
As if the hair riz        15
  Straight off me mind.
 
For, how do it come
  Just to the minute?—
As if it heard some
  Clock strikin’ in it.        20
 
Seems like the spell
  Of some Mighty One,
Come for to tell
  Of some thing I done!
 
Seems like a sign        25
  I done him some hurt,
When I whipped from his line
  Quilty’s white shirt.
 
Me heart wouldn’t crack—
  But the spell would break        30
If I took it back
  As a little mistake.
 
Still … I’m no debtor
  To a bit of light froth:
Maybe ’twould be better        35
  To crush the White Moth!
 
 
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