| WHEN a dream is born in you | |
| With a sudden clamorous pain, | |
| When you know the dream is true | |
| And lovely, with no flaw nor stain, | |
| O then, be careful, or with sudden clutch | 5 |
| You'll hurt the delicate thing you prize so much. | |
| |
| Dreams are like a bird that mocks, | |
| Flirting the feathers of his tail. | |
| When you seize at the salt-box, | |
| Over the hedge you'll see him sail. | 10 |
| Old birds are neither caught with salt nor chaff: | |
| They watch you from the apple bough and laugh. | |
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| Poet, never chase the dream. | |
| Laugh yourself, and turn away. | |
| Mask your hunger; let it seem | 15 |
| Small matter if he come or stay; | |
| But when he nestles in your hand at last, | |
| Close up your fingers tight and hold him fast. | |