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 starts like some snow-white Minerva's snow-white marble eyes Without the gift of sight.
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"How countlessly they congregate..."
Robert Lee Frost's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Stars"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...