Monna Innominata


 * I wish I could remember that first day,
 * First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
 * If bright or dim the season, it might be
 * Summer or Winter for aught I can say;
 * So unrecorded did it slip away,
 * So blind was I to see and to foresee,
 * So dull to mark the budding of my tree
 * That would not blossom for many a May.
 * If only I could recollect it, such
 * A day of days! I let it come and go
 * As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;
 * It seemed to mean so little, meant so much;
 * If only now I could recall that touch,
 * First touch of hand in hand – Did one but know!