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 Blush –
Her Cheeks – a Beryl Heave –
All Rosy – She will rise again
Whenever— I believe –

The Windy West leaps after her
And Vows its Love will do –
And that will carry her to me
As Sweetest – ever – true –

• Emily Dickinson