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Among all lovely things my Love had been;
While riding near her home one stormy night
Upon a leaf the Glow-worm did I lay,
When to the Dwelling of my Love I came,
The whole next day, I hoped, and hoped with fear;
I traveled among unknown Men,
Nor England! did I know till then
'Tis past, that melancholy dream!
Nor will I quit thy shore
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 shew'd—thy nights concealed
And thine is, too, the last green field