Lucy

I travelled among unknown men,
In lands beyond the sea
Nor, England, did I know 'til then
What love I bore to thee.
'Tis past, that melancholy dream!
Nor will I quit thy shore
A second time for I still 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.
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:
A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye
Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.
She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be
But she is in her grave and, oh,
The difference to me
A slumber did my spirit seal
I had no human fears:
She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.
No motion has she now, no force
She neither hears nor sees -
Rolled round in earth's diurnal course
With rocks, and stones, and trees.