Author Martha Gilbert Dickinson Bianchi While the incurious stars burnt on — And Night as weary caravans the hours led, I asked of God, in dreams your soul to keep Till morning wake you glad — then comforted I fell asleep, While the incurious stars burnt on. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments