I WAS MUSING last night on my spendthrift days, when I thought you spoke to me-
In youth's careless career you kept all the doors open in your house.
The world went in and out as it pleased-the world with its dust, doubts, and disorder-and with its music.
With the wild crowd I came to you again and again unknown and unbidden.
Had you kept shut your doors in wise seclusion how could I have found my way into your house?'

MY FLOWER, seek not thy paradise
in a fool's buttonhole.

THE STARS are riot afraid to appear like fireflies.