Pears red with basking

Out in the sun,

Plums on their twigs;

Pluck them and suck them,

Pomegranates, figs.’”

Of course this is not very high poetry, nor as such is it quoted here. But it is one of many wonderful pieces of minute and life-like painting that occur in this strange poem. From the same we quote another passage as exhibiting what

we would call a splendid fault in the poet:

“White and golden Lizzie stood,

Like a lily in a flood—

Like a rock of blue-veined stone