YOU ASK ME, mother, where I most wish to go. It is there from
where I first came to you. But I never can remember the place.
My father smiles at my trouble and says. 'It is beyond the clouds
in the land of the evening star.'
But I hear from you, it is deep in the bosom of the earth, from
where the flowers come away seeking the sun.
'That land lies unseen,' my auntie says, 'in the bottom of the
sea, hiding all the precious gems in its store.'
My brother pulls my hair and says, 'How can you find it, you
stupid one, for it is mingled in the air.'
It must be everywhere, it seems to me when I listen to you all.
Only my school-master shakes his head and says'It is nowhere.'

THE INFANT flower opens its bud and cries, 'Dear World, please do
not fade.'

O BEAUTY, find thyself in love, not in the flattery of thy mirror.