Sonnets/Unrealities XI


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It may not always be so;
and I say
and if your lips
which I have loved
should touch another's
and your dear strong fingers clutch
her 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 helpelessly 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 her
and take her hands,

Accept all happiness from me

Then I shall turn my face
and hear one bird
sing terribly afar
in the lost lands

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