I’ve often heard of the man in the moon;
And his profile often have seen
In the almanac, drawn on the side of a lune,
Just so–with a smile serene.
But I guessed the secret the other night,
As the clouds were clearing away;
And what do you think was the wondrous sight
Which the mystery did betray?
I fancied I saw in the crescent, half hid,
Fair Luna herself reclining;
Not a man in the moon, but a woman instead,
From the sky was brightly shining.