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 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 starts like somw snow-white
Minerva's snow-white marble eyes
Without the gift of sight.
Poem by
Robert Frost
Biography |
Poems
| Best Poems | Short Poems
| Quotes
|
Email Poem |
More Poems by Robert Frost
Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on Stars
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Stars here.
Commenting turned off, sorry.