Amy Lowell sets two night images side by side. High above, the moon and stars are fixed and calm. Down in the garden, yellow moths flutter around a white azalea bush. The visual echo is immediate: the pale azalea glows like a small moon, and the yellow moths move around it like restless stars. What could feel distant and enormous suddenly has an intimate, local equivalent.
The speaker doesn’t state a big emotion, but the pairing creates a quiet sense of wonder and proportion. The word “proportion” suggests that beauty works at every scale — cosmic and domestic. The mood is still and observant, as if the speaker has paused at night to notice that the garden is repeating the sky. It feels hushed, delicate, and slightly enchanted, a moment of harmony between the vast and the nearby.