When You are Old |
| WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep | |
| And nodding by the fire, take down this book, | |
| And slowly read, and dream of the soft look | |
| Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; | |
How many loved your moments of glad grace, | 5 |
| And loved your beauty with love false or true; | |
| But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, | |
| And loved the sorrows of your changing face. | |
And bending down beside the glowing bars, |  |
| Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled | 10 |
| And paced upon the mountains overhead, | |
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars. William Butler Yeats. b. 1865  |
