In just three lines, Leonora Speyer turns the new moon into a tiny baby. It lies curled in a cloud’s lap, kicking its golden heels — the thin crescent looks like small bright limbs moving against the sky. The speaker even imagines hearing it crow to the stars, which gives the scene a playful, nursery-like energy.
The mood is tender and whimsical, full of affection for the night sky. Rather than feeling vast or lonely, the sky becomes cozy and familiar: a child moon, a cloud acting as a cradle, stars as an audience. The speaker feels quiet delight and wonder, as if catching a private moment of infant joy overhead. It makes the moon feel close and alive, not distant.