like immortal flowers of vapour. In that far country, it may be,
are also the unfulfilled dreams, the visions too perfect
to be fashioned into song, of the young poets who have gained the laurel.

We close the little book lovingly:

"And I had dimly shaped my first attempt,
And many a thought did I build up on thought,
As the wild bee hangs cell to cell -- in vain;
For I must still go on: my mind rests not."




Chapter 3.



It has been commonly asserted that "Pauline" was almost wholly disregarded,
and swiftly lapsed into oblivion.

This must be accepted with qualification. It is like
the other general assertion, that Browning had to live fifty years
before he gained recognition -- a statement as ludicrous when examined as
it is unjust to the many discreet judges who awarded, publicly and privately,
that intelligent sympathy which is the best sunshine for the flower
of a poet's genius. If by "before he gained recognition" is meant
a general and indiscriminate acclaim, no doubt Browning had, still has indeed,
longer to wait than many other eminent writers have had to do:
but it is absurd to assert that from the very outset of his poetic career