The poem
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.