Stars
L. Liebermann
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,
Out 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.