William Wordsworth
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 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 cherish’d turn’d her wheel    
  Beside an English fire.    
 
Thy mornings show’d, thy nights conceal’d    
  The bowers where Lucy play’d;    
And thine too is the last green field
  That Lucy’s eyes survey’d.
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