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Emily Dickinson - You know that Portrait in the Moon
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You know that Portrait in the Moon—
So tell me who `tis like—
The very Brow—the stooping eyes—
A fog for—Say—Whose Sake?

The very Pattern of the Cheek—
It varies—in the Chin—
But—Ishmael—since we met—`tis long—
And fashions—intervene—

When Moon`s at full—`Tis Thou—I say—
My lips just hold the name—
When crescent—Thou art worn—I note—
But—there—the Golden Same—

And when—Some Night—Bold—slashing Clouds
Cut Thee away from Me—
That`s easier—than the other film
That glazes Holiday—
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