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Aspiration

 When I was daft (as urchins are),
And full if fairy lore,
I aimed an arrow at a star
And hit - the barnyard door.
I've shot at heaps of stars since then, but always it's the same - A barnyard door has mocked me when Uranus was my aim.
So, I'll shoot starward as of yore, Though wide my arrows fall; I'd rather hit a big barn door Then never aim at all.

Poem by Robert William Service
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