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Divine Comedy, The Liberation Lucy By w. wordsworth 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. She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of dove, A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love: A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye -fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave and, oh, The difference to me A slumber did my spirit seal; I had no human fears; She seemed a thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years. No motion has she now, no force; She neither hears nor sees; Rolled around in earth's diurnal course, With rocks, and stones, and trees. |
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