Wednesday, March 17, 2010

When You Are Old

William Butler Yeats


When you are old and grey 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.


(Thanks, always, Amanda)

2 comments:

Amanda said...

(Where's the "like" button?)

The first version of this I read and then memorized has a few changes in the last stanza, and I haven't taken the time to figure out if the differences are legit or which came first or whatever, but here's the last stanza that I know (and like more than this one, even):

And, bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, from us fled Love.
He paced upon the mountains far above
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

Oh, but either way it's Yeats and it's lovely. Hurrah!

KTE said...

Perfect for Paddy's day. I love Yeats, especially when he's strong enough to be simple (his gyring is brillant, but I like him better when he's not reaching and reaching and reaching for brillance).