Sonnets/Unrealities XI

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 awayIf on another's face your sweet hair lay
In such a silence as I know
Or such great rising words, as uttering overmuch
Stand helplessly before the spirit at bayIf 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