| 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, as 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. |
