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 turned 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 restore
in death's respite,
And day and night
yield one delight once more?

- Dante Gabriel Rossetti