Our Hands Have Met

William Morris 1834 (Walthamstow) – 1896 (London)



Our hands have met, our lips have met
Our souls - who knows when the wind blows
How light souls drift mid longings set,
If thou forget'st, can I forget
The time that was not long ago?

Thou wert not silent then, but told
Sweet secrets dear - I drew so near
Thy shamefaced cheeks grown overbold,
That scarce thine eyes might I behold!
Ah was it then so long ago!

Trembled my lips and thou wouldst turn
But hadst no heart to draw apart,
Beneath my lips thy cheek did burn -
Yet no rebuke that I might learn;
Yea kind looks still, not long ago.

Wilt thou be glad upon the day
When unto me this love shall be
An idle fancy passed away,
And we shall meet and smile and say
'O wasted sighs of long ago!'

Wilt thou rejoice that thou hast set
Cold words, dull shows 'twixt hearts drawn close,
That cold at heart I live on yet,
Forgetting still that I forget
The priceless days of long ago?

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

53 sec read
75

Quick analysis:

Scheme AXAAB CXACB DXDDB EXEEB AXAAB
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 864
Words 177
Stanzas 5
Stanza Lengths 5, 5, 5, 5, 5

William Morris

William Morris, Mayor of Galway, 1527-28. more…

All William Morris poems | William Morris Books

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