She was wearing the coral taffeta trousers br Someone had brought her from Ispahan, br And the little gold coat with pomegranate blossoms, br And the coral-hafted feather fan; br But she ran down a Kentish lane in the moonlight, br And skipped in the pool of the moon as she ran. br br She cared not a rap for all the big planets, br For Betelgeuse or Aldebaran, br And all the big planets cared nothing for her, br That small impertinent charlatan; br But she climbed on a Kentish stile in the moonlight, br And laughed at the sky through the sticks of her fan.