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 yet 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 seem'd 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! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TOM O'ROUGHLEY by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE PROGRESS OF POETRY; A VARIATION by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE RIVULET by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT ON THE SLAIN COLLEGIANS by HERMAN MELVILLE THE FIRST FIRE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD TO HIS WORSHIPFULL WEL-WILLER, MAISTER EDWARD LEIGH by RICHARD BARNFIELD |