The Moon Was But A Chin Of Gold

737

The Moon was but a Chin of Gold
A Night or two ago-
And now she turns Her perfect Face
Upon the World below-

Her Forehead is of Amplest Blonde-
Her Cheek-a Beryl hewn-
Her Eye unto the Summer Dew
The likest I have known-

Her Lips of Amber never part-
But what must be the smile
Upon Her Friend she could confer
Were such Her Silver Will-

And what a privilege to be
But the remotest Star-
For Certainty She take Her Way
Beside Your Palace Door-

Her Bonnet is the Firmament-
The Universe-Her Shoe-
The Stars-the Trinkets at Her Belt-
Her Dimities-of Blue-