Stars

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 keenness 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.

by Robert Frost

Comments (7)

It is true that our life is a beautifully ugly sorrowful forest
The white marble eyes of the Goddess of love, Minerva, Nice poem shared.
snow, blow! - fate, rest on, dawn, nice rhyme scheme ababab....
It describes the nocturnal sky.I like this poet!
am still searching for those stars at night they're rarity here...nice
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