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, 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 my face, and hear one bird sing terribly afar in the lost lands.
    - e. e. cummings