it may not al­ways be so;and i say
that if your lips,which i have loved,should touch
another’s,and your dear strong fin­gers clutch
his heart,as mine in time not far away;
if on another’s face your sweet hair lay
in such a si­lence as i know,or such
great writhing words as,uttering over­much,
stand help­less­ly be­fore the spir­it at bay;
if this should be,i say if this should be–
you of my heart,send me a lit­tle word;
that i may go un­to him,and take his hands,
saying,Accept all hap­pi­ness from me.
Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird
sing ter­ri­bly afar in the lost lands.