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William wordsworth

William Wordsworth

Lucy I: STRANGE fits of passion have I known

STRANGE fits of passion have I known:    
   And I will dare to tell,    
But in the lover’s ear alone,    
   What once to me befell.    

When she I loved look’d every day    
   Fresh as a rose in June,    
I to her cottage bent my way,    
   Beneath an evening moon.    

Upon the moon I fix’d my eye,    
   All over the wide lea;
With quickening pace my horse drew nigh    
   Those paths so dear to me.    

And now we reach’d the orchard—plot;    
   And, as we climb’d the hill,    
The sinking moon to Lucy’s cot      
   Came near and nearer still.    

In one of those sweet dreams I slept,    
   Kind Nature’s gentlest boon!    
And all the while my eyes I kept    
   On the descending moon.    

My horse moved on; hoof after hoof    
   He raised, and never stopp’d:    
When down behind the cottage roof,    
   At once, the bright moon dropp’d.    

What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
   Into a lover’s head!    
‘O mercy!’ to myself I cried,    
   ‘If Lucy should be dead!’

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