Such a slender moon, going up and up,
Waxing so fast from night to night,
And swelling like an orange flower-bud, bright,
Fated, methought, to round as to a golden cup,
And hold to my two lips life's best of wine.

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Jean Ingelow (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.