Dante Gabriel Rosetti
I
have been here before,
But
when or how I cannot tell:
I know
the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell,
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.
You
have been mine before,--
How
long ago I may not know:
But just
when at that swallow's soar
Your neck turn'd so,
Some veil did fall,--I knew it all of yore.
Has
this been thus before?
And
shall not thus time's eddying flight
Still
with our lives our love restore
In death's despite,
And day and night yield one delight once more?
