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William Wordsworth (Уильям Вордсворт)


* * *


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. 



William Wordsworth's other poems:
  1. To The Supreme Being From The Italian Of Michael Angelo
  2. Upon The Same Event
  3. Yes, It Was The Mountain Echo
  4. Character of the Happy Warrior
  5. Personal Talk


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