Stars
How countlessy they congregat
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 whiterest, 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.

Robert Frost

Fireflies in the Garden

Here come real stars to fill the
upper skies,
And here on Earth come emulating
flies,
That though they never equal stars
in size,
(And they were never really stars
at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like
start.
Only, of course they can't sustain
the part.

Robert Frost