Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
XXVII. Vain Longing
By William Wordsworth (1770–1850)
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!        5
  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 cherish’d turn’d her wheel
  Beside an English fire.
Thy mornings show’d, thy nights conceal’d,
  The bowers where Lucy play’d;
And thine too is the last green field        15
  That Lucy’s eyes survey’d.

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