The nearest dream recedes
The nearest dream recedes—unrealized—
The Heaven we chase
Like the June Bee—before the school-boy,
Invites the race—
Stoops—to an easy clover —
Dips—evades—teazes—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
That brews that rare variety!