| THREE years she grew in sun and shower; | |
| Then Nature said, 'A lovelier flower | |
| On earth was never sown; | |
| This child I to myself will take; | |
| She shall be mine, and I will make | 5 |
| A lady of my own. | |
| |
| "Myself will to my darling be | |
| Both law and impulse: and with me | |
| The girl, in rock and plain, | |
| In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, | 10 |
| Shall feel an overseeing power | |
| To kindle or restrain. | |
| |
| 'She shall be sportive as the fawn | |
| That wild with glee across the lawn | |
| Or up the mountain springs; | 15 |
| And hers shall be the breathing balm, | |
| And hers the silence and the calm | |
| Of mute insensate things. | |
| |
| 'The floating clouds their state shall lend | |
| To her; for her the willow bend; | 20 |
| Nor shall she fail to see | |
| Even in the motions of the storm | |
| Grace that shall mould the maiden's form | |
| By silent sympathy. | |
| |
| 'The stars of midnight shall be dear | 25 |
| To her; and she shall lean her ear | |
| In many a secret place | |
| Where rivulets dance their wayward round, | |
| And beauty born of murmuring sound | |
| Shall pass into her face. | 30 |
| |
| 'And vital feelings of delight | |
| Shall rear her form to stately height, | |
| Her virgin bosom swell; | |
| Such thoughts to Lucy I will give | |
| While she and I together live | 35 |
| Here in this happy dell.' | |
| |
| Thus Nature spake—The work was done— | |
| How soon my Lucy's race was run! | |
| She died, and left to me | |
| This heath, this calm, and quiet scene; | 40 |
| The memory of what has been, | |
| And never more will be. | |
