Displacement

The masses may miss the sun and glorify the cloud.

The Shepherd, looking eastward, softly said

— by William Wordsworth

The Shepherd, looking eastward, softly said, "Bright is thy veil, O Moon, as thou art bright!" Forthwith, that little cloud, in ether spread And penetrated all with tender light, She cast away, and showed her fulgent head Uncovered; dazzling the Beholder’s sight As if to vindicate her beauty’s right Her beauty thoughtlessly disparagèd. Meanwhile that veil, removed or thrown aside, Went floating from her, darkening as it went; And a huge mass, to bury or to hide, Approached this glory of the firmament; Who meekly yields, and is obscured—content With one calm triumph of a modest pride.