Oh, but the door that waits a friend Swings open to the day. There stood no warder at my gate To bid love stand or stay. Oh, wisdomnever comes when it is gold, And the great price we pay for it full worth. We have it only when we are half earth, Little avails that coinage to the old. Out of my dreams, I fashioned a flower; Nursed it within my heart, Thought it my dower. What wind is this that creeps within and blows Roughly away the petals of my rose?