e.e.cummings

it may not always be so;and i say
that if your lips, whitch i have loved,should touch
another's,and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart,as mine in time not far away;
if on anothe's face your sweet hair lay
in such a silence as i know,or such
great writting words as, uttering over much,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;

if this should be,i say if this should be -
you of my heart, send me 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.