Sonnets / Unrealities XI

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