I used to think that this environ- br Ment talk was all a lot of guff; br Place mattered not with Keats and Byron br Stuff. br br If I have thoughts that need disclosing, br Bright be the day or hung with gloom, br I'll write in Heaven or the composing- br Room. br br Times are when with my nerves a-tingle, br Joyous and bright the songs I sing; br Though, gay, I can't dope out a single br Thing. br br And yet, by way of illustration, br The gods my graying head annoint . . . br I wrote this piece at Inspiration br point.br br Franklin P.