Strange Fits of Passion Have I Known — William Wordsworth

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 looked every day

          Fresh as a rose in June,

          I to her cottage bent my way,

          Beneath an evening-moon.

          Upon the moon I fixed my eye,

          All over the wide lea;

          With quickening pace my horse drew nigh

          Those paths so dear to me.

          And now we reached the orchard-plot;

          And, as we climbed 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 stopped:

          When down behind the cottage roof,

          At once, the bright moon dropped.

          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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