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  4. Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
  5. But hers was the misery of innocence, which, like a cloud...

But her's was the misery of innocence, which, like a cloud that passes over the fair moon, for a while hides, but cannot tarnish its brightness.

Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
Moon, Clouds, Brightness
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley (1869). “Frankenstein: Or, The Modern Prometheus”, p.70
But her's was the misery of innocence, which, like a cloud that passes over the fair moon, for a while hides, but cannot tarnish its brightness.