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 writing 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 face

And hear one bird

Sing terribly afar in

The lost lands