The Moon was but a Chin of Gold A Night or two ago— And now she turns her perfect Face Upon the World below—
I saw her, and another stood As silent as a star— And like a Heart that knows a Pain Of sorrow—How they are!
- Emily Dickinson
The Moon was but a Chin of Gold A Night or two ago— And now she turns her perfect Face Upon the World below—
I saw her, and another stood As silent as a star— And like a Heart that knows a Pain Of sorrow—How they are!