THE child's wonder At the old moon Comes back nightly. She points her finger To the far silent yellow thing Shining through the branches Filtering on the leaves a golden sand, Crying with her little tongue, "See the moon!" And in her bed fading to sleep With babblings of the moon on her little mouth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LAST RESERVATION by WALTER LEARNED A GENTLE ECHO ON WOMAN (IN THE DORIC MANNER) by JONATHAN SWIFT THE TRIUMPH OF TIME by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE BLIND ASTRONOMER by THOMAS ASA TO A FRIEND by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |