Author Dorothy Wordsworth The moon hungOver the northern sideOf the highest point of Silver How—Like a gold ringSnapped in twoAnd shaven off at the ends.Within this ringThere layThe circle of the round moonAs distinctly to be seenAs everThe enlightened moon is. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments