When You Are Old

A poem
by William Butler Yeats

When You Are Old

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,
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
And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

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~ by Chris Hibbard on November 20, 2008.

One Response to “When You Are Old”

  1. Ah, there’s a writer named Megan on dA who’s mad about Yeats, and that’s part of why I decided to read this. He really is really good…

    Hm, looks like I have reconquered your comments box, Chris.

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