Guest poem sent in by JP Andrews
(Poem #436) 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.
(1892) I will leave the analysis to someone better qualified than myself. All I know for sure is that I love this poem, have loved it since the moment I first read it. It was the first piece of poetry I ever sent my wife, back when we were courting. She told me recently that she knew I loved her when I sent her Yeats. JP Andrews