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Three years she grew in sun and shower

      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
      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,
      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;
      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;
      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
      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.

      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
      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,
      The memory of what has been,
      And never more will be. 

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