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I travelled 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 cherished turned her wheel
...Beside an English fire.
Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed,
...The bowers where Lucy played;
And thine too is the last green field
...That Lucy's eyes surveyed.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
...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 cherished turned her wheel
...Beside an English fire.
Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed,
...The bowers where Lucy played;
And thine too is the last green field
...That Lucy's eyes surveyed.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
