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!