By day you cannot see the sky <br />For it is up so very high. <br />You look and look, but it's so blue <br />That you can never see right through. <br /> <br />But when night comes it is quite plain, <br />And all the stars are there again. <br />They seem just like old friends to me, <br />I've known them all my life you see. <br /> <br />There is the dipper first, and there <br />Is Cassiopeia in her chair, <br />Orion's belt, the Milky Way, <br />And lots I know but cannot say. <br /> <br />One group looks like a swarm of bees, <br />Papa says they're the Pleiades; <br />But I think they must be the toy <br />Of some nice little angel boy. <br /> <br />Perhaps his jackstones which to-day <br />He has forgot to put away, <br />And left them lying on the sky <br />Where he will find them bye and bye. <br /> <br />I wish he'd come and play with me. <br />We'd have such fun, for it would be <br />A most unusual thing for boys <br />To feel that they had stars for toys!<br /><br />Amy Lowell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-pleiades/
