William Wordsworth

Lucy

iii

I TRAVELL’D among unknown men,
    In lands beyond the sea;
Nor, England! did I know till then
    What love I bore to thee.

’Tis past, that melancholy dream!
    Nor will I quit thy shore
A second time; for still I seem
    To love thee more and more.

Among thy mountains did I feel
    The joy of my desire;
And she I cherish’d turn’d her wheel
    Beside an English fire.

Thy mornings showed, thy nights conceal’d,
    The bowers where Lucy played;
And thine too is the last green field
    That Lucy’s eyes survey’d.