My Star

Robert Browning

	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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