All, that I know
Of a certain star
Is, it can throw
(Like the angled spar)
Now a dart of red,
Now a dart of blue
Till my friends have said
They would fain see, too,
My star that dartles the red and the blue!
Then it stops like a bird; like a flower, hangs furled:
They must solace themselves with the Saturn above it.
What matter to me if their star is a world?
Mine has opened its soul to me; therefore I love it.
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interesting
I've read Robert Browning's work before... but I've never seen this poem. I love stars, so I like the fact that it's about a star - but I feel that there is more depth to this poem than I can truly comprehend. It's a beautiful write, and it moves the mind to think "outside the box" as I've heard so many times before.
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