Lucy

<br>I travelled among unknown men<br>In lands beyond the sea;<br>Nor, England, did I know `til then<br>What love I bore to thee!<br>`Tis past, that melancholy dream -<br>Nor will I quit thy shore<br>A second time, for I still seem<br>To love thee more and more.<br>Among thy mountains did I feel<br>The joy of my desire,<br>And she I cherished turned her wheel<br>Beside an English fire.<br>By mornings showed, by nights concealed<br>The bowers where Lucy played;<br>And thine, too, is the last green field<br>That Lucy`s eye surveyed.<br>She dwelt among the untrodden ways<br>Beside the springs of Dove;<br>A maid whom there were none to praise<br>And very few to love.<br>A violet by a mossy stone,<br>Half hidden from the eye;<br>Fair as a star, when only one<br>Is shining in the sky.<br>She lived alone, and few could know<br>When Lucy ceased to be;<br>But she is in her grave, and oh!<br>The difference to me!<br>A slumber did my spirit seal;<br>I had no human fears.<br>She seemed a thing that could not feel<br>The touch of earthly years.<br>No motion has she now, no force;<br>She neither hears nor sees -<br>Rolled round in earth`s diurnal course<br>With rocks, and stones, and trees.