The Moon was but a Chin of Gold

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 —

     -F735, J737, Fascicle 35, 1863

In this poem Dickinson pens a paean to the Moon.

It begins with the poet looking at the round face of the Moon and remembering how just a few days ago only the golden chin of this face was showing. The moon is not only alive, but golden, and She slowly reveals Her perfect face to us below.

Dickinson describes the face of the Moon in the richest of terms. The forehead, for instance, is of amplest blonde. The phrase “amplest blonde” is underscored with its open “ahh” assonance. It's not just ample blonde. It's the amplest. In these incremental ways, this poem, like the moon, reveals the glory of itself. 

It’s worth noting that this is the second time Dickinson has used the word “blonde” in fascicle 35. (Here is an interesting essay on the word “blonde” in Dickinson’s oeuvre, including this poem, if you are interested.)

In the second stanza we find out the moon’s cheek is like hewn beryl. The word hewn gives us the idea of the moon’s face having been sculpted, or at least cut like a gem. 

Raw beryl ready to be hewn into a moon's cheek.

Then we get this lovely comparison, “Her Eye unto the Summer Dew/ The likest I have known —” The way Dickinson has phrased this, "Her eye unto the Summer Dew," gives the sense that the summer dew is somehow emanating from the eye of the moon itself, like tears, or a liquid gaze. The second half of this phrase, “The likest I have known,” makes the connection between the moon and the dew complete. The thing most like the rejuvenating dew of the morning is seen in the glistening eye of the moon. This is the third time the word “dew” has been used in fascicle 35. In F733, Dickinson writes of how the dew is the same the world through, on earth as it is in heaven, and here, in this poem, you see a reflection of this idea, as the dew on the earth appears to be reflected in the moon’s eye.

Her Lips of Amber never part —
But what must be the smile
Upon Her Friend she could confer
Were such Her Silver Will —

The moon’s face is shown to be a kind of patchwork of precious metals and gems; a golden chin, beryl cheeks and amber lips. The idea that there is a radiant smile behind the never-parting amber lips of the moon is wonderful. The moon would only have to exercise her "Silver Will" to unleash Her smile. “Silver Will” is a memorable phrase. The moon may not be smiling, but she is willing Her silver light to the world.  

The idea of willing a smile recalls the poem just before this one in fascicle 35. “Trivial — a Smile —/ But won’t you wish you’d spared one/ When I’m Earl?” But I don’t get the sense here that the Moon is withholding a smile out of any kind of neglect. She's just not explicitly revealing it. The smile is there, beneath the surface, always, an inner joy that reveals itself in the imagination of the poet. It is worth comparing this poem to another great Dickinson description of the moon in F593, in which the moon is self-sufficient and independent; “Independent, Amber—/ Sustain her in the sky—/ engrossed to Absolute—/ With Shining—and the Sky—/ / The privilege to scrutinize/ Was scarce upon my Eyes/ When, with a Silver practise—/ She vaulted out of Gaze—”

The fourth stanza shows even the remotest star is enamored with the moon:

And what a privilege to be
But the remotest Star —
For Certainty She take Her Way
Beside Your Palace Door —

The idea in this stanza can be compared to another poem, F717, which can be found near the beginning of fascicle 35:

How imminent the Venture –
As One should sue a Star –
For His mean sake to leave the Row
And entertain Despair –

A Clemency so common –
We almost cease to fear –
Enabling the minutest –
And furthest – to adore –

The "remotest" privileged star, here, is like the “minutest and furthest” adoring star in the earlier poem. 

In the fifth and final stanza we move from the face to the rest of the Moon, Her “body,” which extends to the whole universe,

“Her Bonnet is the Firmament —
The Universe — Her Shoe —
The Stars — the Trinkets at Her Belt —
Her Dimities — of Blue —”

The moon’s bonnet is the sky (the Firmament) and the Universe is her shoe. That’s quite a shoe! An alternate word Dickinson has for “Universe” is “Valleys.” To say the sky is the hat and the valleys are the shoe makes an easier sense. But I like that Dickinson expanded the shoe to be the entire universe. The hyperbole is fitting for the subject matter.

In the last two lines a subtly amorous suggestion enters the poem. There is the Moon's belt of stars, and there are Her dimities of blue. Dimities are sheer cotton fabrics, often used in undergarments. If you couple the dimities with the belt, there is, perhaps, the idea of more to be disclosed.

The overall effect of this poem is in the cumulative way it brings the moon to life in all of its opulent majesty. This effect is reflected in the poetry. The way the moon is slowly revealed, bit by precious bit, and then expands to encompass the whole universe, is what reading an Emily Dickinson poem is like. First you see the lyrical glimmer of the poetry, its "golden chin," and then, after spending some time with it, its perfect form reveals itself to you, as if from above. 

    -/)dam Wade I)eGraff