W B Yeats

This is the poem I referred to (and incorrectly quoted...)


When You are Old


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.

Isn't that lovely? I love this poem, especially the pilgrim soul/changing face lines.

Genius!

I went and looked at the other pilgrim souls blog, and she seems nice. I wonder if she got it from Yeats? I didn't like to ask, it didn't seem like great timing. Plus, since she is here first, I have sort of stolen her thing. Its a great poem though.