THE FIRST DAY

I wish I could remember the first day,

First hour, first moment of you 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 & to forsee,

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 & 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 -