It may not always be so

And I say that if your lips
which I have loved
whould 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 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 her,
and take her hands, saying

Accept all happiness from me,
then I shall turn my face
and hear one bird sing terribly afar in the lost lands