Stars (Teasdale)

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Stars
by Sara Teasdale


Alone in the night
     On a dark hill
With pines around me
     Spicy and still,

And a heaven full of stars
     Over my head,
White and topaz
     And misty red;

Myriads with beating
     Hearts of fire
That aeons
     Cannot vex or tire;

Up the dome of heaven
     Like a great hill,
I watch them marching
     Stately and still,

And I know that I
     Am honored to be
Witness
     Of so much majesty.


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