Her Bonnet is the Firmament

I post Emily Dickinson on Wednesdays and will be for a while. To understand why go here.

  # 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 –

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