Felix Dennis
I hammered hard upon the door confused,
My soul in pain:
"What! Am I to be thus abused,
A pilgrim in the rain?
A dragon-fly with wings still yet to dry
From Mammon's mire,
May yet outshine a butterfly
And set the lake a-fire."
But as I raved and battered at the keep
A voice within
Spoke sweetly to my troubled sleep:
"Twas never locked -
Come in."
