When You Are Old - By W.B.YeatsWhen you are old and grey and full of sleep,And nodding by fire, take down this book,And slowly read, and dream of the soft lookYour eyes had once, and of their shadows deepHow 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 overheadAnd hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
