Suspended in a stream as clear as sky,

Where earth and heaven do make one imagery;

O blessed Vision! happy Child!

That art so exquisitely wild,

I think of thee with many fears

For what may be thy lot in future years.

I thought of times when Pain might be thy guest, Lord of thy house and hospitality;

And grief, uneasy Lover! never rest

But when she sate within the touch of thee.

Oh! too industrious folly!

Oh! vain and causeless melancholy!

Nature will either end thee quite;

Or, lengthening out thy season of delight,
Preserve for thee, by individual right,

A young Lamb's heart among the full-grown

flocks.

What hast Thou to do with sorrow,

Or the injuries of tomorrow?

Thou art a Dew-drop, which the morn brings

forth,

Not doom'd to jostle with unkindly shocks;

Or to be trail'd along the soiling earth;

A Gem that glitters while it lives,

And no forewarning gives;

But, at the touch of wrong, without a strife

Slips in a moment out of life

Among all lovely things my Love had been;
Had noted well the stars, all flowers that grew
About her home; but she had never seen

A Glow-worm, never one, and this I knew.

While riding near her home one stormy night
A single Glow-worm did I chance to espy;
I gave a fervent welcome to the sight,
And from my Horse I leapt; great joy had I.

Upon a leaf the Glow-worm did I lay,

To bear it with me through the stormy night:
And, as before, it shone without dismay;

Albeit putting forth a fainter light.

When to the Dwelling of my Love I came,
I went into the Orchard quietly;

And left the Glow-worm, blessing it by name,
Laid safely by itself, beneath a Tree.

The whole next day, I hoped, and hoped with fear;
At night the Glow-worm shone beneath the Tree:
I led my Lucy to the spot, "Look here!"
Oh! joy it was for her, and joy for me!

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!. 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 cherish'd turn'd her wheel

Beside an English fire.