 She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Alana Jordan. 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 is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Anne Cheng. 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 is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Brian Hadley. 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 is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Clarica. 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 is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Eswa, in Belgium, in May 2008. 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 is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Julie from Belgium. 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 is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Kristen Hughes. 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 is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Leanne Howlett. 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 is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Peter Spurgeon. 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 is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Rachel Linton, Bristol, UK. 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 is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Secrets. 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 is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Shritigal. 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 shore half-hidden from the eye. Fair is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libervox.org. She dwelt among the untrodden ways by William Wordsworth, read for Libervox.org by Midness. 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 is a star, when only one is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know when Lucy sees to be, but she is in her grave and oh, the difference to me. End of poem. This recording is in-