737 <br /> <br />The Moon was but a Chin of Gold <br />A Night or two ago— <br />And now she turns Her perfect Face <br />Upon the World below— <br /> <br />Her Forehead is of Amplest Blonde— <br />Her Cheek—a Beryl hewn— <br />Her Eye unto the Summer Dew <br />The likest I have known— <br /> <br />Her Lips of Amber never part— <br />But what must be the smile <br />Upon Her Friend she could confer <br />Were such Her Silver Will— <br /> <br />And what a privilege to be <br />But the remotest Star— <br />For Certainty She take Her Way <br />Beside Your Palace Door— <br /> <br />Her Bonnet is the Firmament— <br />The Universe—Her Shoe— <br />The Stars—the Trinkets at Her Belt— <br />Her Dimities—of Blue—<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-moon-was-but-a-chin-of-gold/
