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Robert Frost · Collected Poems

Poem 126 of 164 · West-Running Brook

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.

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