Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 1.djvu/189

129 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!"