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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 5, Poema 3
III.
The
nearest
dream
slips
away,
unrealized.
The
heaven
we
chase
Is
like
the
June
bee
Before
the
school-boy
Invites
the
race;
It
dips
to
a
clover—
Dives—evades—teases—flies;
Then
to
the
royal
clouds
Lifts
its
light
craft
Heedless
of
the
boy
Staring,
puzzled,
at
the
mocking
sky.
Homesick
for
steady
honey,
Ah!
the
bee
does
not
fly
That
makes
that
rare
kind.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B2 Inglés | Cuentana