Stars (by Robert Frost)

Robert_Frost_NYWTS.jpg picture by insightoutside

by Robert Frost
[from A Boy's Will (1913)]

How countlessly they congregate
     O'er our tumultuous snow,
Which flows in shapes as tall as trees 
     When wintry winds do blow!--

As if with keeness for our fate, 
     Our faltering few steps on
To white rest, and a place of rest 
     Invisible at dawn—

And yet with neither love nor hate, 
     Those stars like some snow-white
Minerva's snow-white marble eyes 
     Without the gift of sight. 

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