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 her, and take her hands saying
accept all happiness from me
then shall i turn my face
and hear one bird sing terribly afar in the lost lands