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Poem

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 showed, thy nights conceal’d,
   The bowers where Lucy played;
And thine too is the last green field
   That Lucy’s eyes survey’d.

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