Were I to meet you face to face again
And hear your voice as in remembered days,
With mellow laughter clipped in now and then,
And note dear traces of your wonted ways,
Although my claim upon you is no more,
None on your voice, your laughter, or your song,
My pride I know will sudden falter, for
I am not the one to hide the feelings long.
Thus, many a time while standing in a crowd,
Chancing to see a form quite far apart,
Built on your very lines-tall, straight, and proud,
Swiftly with anguish cries the startled heart;
“O would the man be man I never knew! ”
Yet weeps the more to learn it is not you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem