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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 melancholy1 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 show'd， thy nights conceal'd
The bowers2 where Lucy play'd；
And thine too is the last green field
That Lucy's eyes survey'd.
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