I make His Crescent fill or lack —
His Nature is at Full
Or Quarter — as I signify —
His Tides — do I control —
He holds superior in the Sky
Or gropes, at my Command
Behind inferior Clouds — or round
A Mist’s slow Colonnade —
But since We hold a Mutual Disc —
And front a Mutual Day —
Which is the Despot, neither knows —
Nor Whose — the Tyranny —
(Emily Dickinson)
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