How countlessly they congregate br O'er our tumultuous snow, br Which flows in shapes as tall as trees br When wintry winds do blow!-- br br As if with keenness for our fate, br Our faltering few steps on br To white rest, and a place of rest br Invisible at dawn,-- br br And yet with neither love nor hate, br Those stars like some snow-white br Minerva's snow-white marble eyes br Without the gift of sight.