Explore "Stars" by Robert Frost on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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.