Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
When Moonlight FallsHilda Conkling
From “Song Nets”
W
It is like fingers touching the chords of a harp
On a misty day.
When moonlight strikes the water
I cannot get it into my poem—
I only hear the tinkle of ripplings of light.
When I see the water’s fingers and the moon’s rays
Intertwined,
I think of all the words I love to hear
And try to find words white enough
For such shining.