I wish I could remember the 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 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!
___Christina Rossetti
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 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!
___Christina Rossetti
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