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. 

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