societies--to transcribe his answer:

_The way of dreams--the bluebird sang--
Is never hard to find
So soon as you have really left
The grown-up world behind;

So soon as you have come to see
That what the others call
Realities, for such as you,
Are never real at all;

So soon as you have ceased to care
What others say or do,
And understand that they are they,
And you--thank God--are you.

Then is your foot upon the path,
Your journey well begun,
And safe the road for you to tread,
Moonlight or morning sun.

Pence of this world you shall not take,
Yea! no provision heed;
A wild-rose gathered in the wood
Will buy you all you need.

Hungry, the birds shall bring you food,
The bees their honey bring;
And, thirsty, you the crystal drink