When You are Old

Last Wednesday I posted about "Bright Star," and seeing as it's the month of love, I thought I'd post another lovely poem. Now, love poems, I find are increasingly rare, and exceedingly difficult to write. Here's a heart warming poem. This seems like something a lot of people dream of. Old, sweet love.

When You are Old
by W. B. Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly red, 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 star.

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