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Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Carlyle's laugh and other surprises, chapter 20 (search)
ensed summary of the whole experience of a long life:--We play at paste Till qualified for pearl; Then drop the paste And deem ourself a fool. The shapes, though, were similar And our new hands Learned gem-tactics, Practicing sands. Then came one which I have always classed among the most exquisite of her productions, with a singular felicity of phrase and an aerial lift that bears the ear upward with the bee it traces:--The nearest dream recedes unrealized. The heaven we chase, Like the June bee Before the schoolboy, Invites the race, Stoops to an easy clover, Dips — evades — teases — deploys-- Then to the royal clouds Lifts his light pinnace, Heedless of the boy Staring, bewildered, at the mocking sky. Homesick for steadfast honey,-- Ah! the bee flies not Which brews that rare variety. The impression of a wholly new and original poetic genius was as distinct on my mind at the first reading of these four poems as it is now, after half a century of further knowledge; and wit<