Analysis of Full Moon

She was wearing the coral taffeta trousers
    Someone had brought her from Ispahan,
    And the little gold coat with pomegranate blossoms,
    And the coral-hafted feather fan;
    But she ran down a Kentish lane in the moonlight,
    And skipped in the pool of the moon as she ran.

She cared not a rap for all the big planets,
    For Betelgeuse or Aldebaran,
    And all the big planets cared nothing for her,
    That small impertinent charlatan;
    But she climbed on a Kentish stile in the moonlight,
    And laughed at the sky through the sticks of her fan.