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； 10

    And she I cherished turned her wheel

    Beside an English fire.

    Thy mornings showed， thy nights concealed²

    The bowers³ where Lucy played；

    And thine too is the last green field

    That Lucy's eyes surveyed.