Untrodden Ways

She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love
A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky
She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh
The difference to me!