W. B. Yeats (1865-1939)

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.

I found this poem through the latest photography prompt at the beautiful 3 from here & there


Patricia said…
Thank you for posting this, Diane. I've been contemplating that challenge for an hour or so and not quite catching a vision of that prompt. Though I still don't know what photo I'll post, reading the poem certainly illuminates the prompt...and what a poignant verse it is.
Di said…
I felt the same way Patricia. I needed to see context. And I am so glad I did.

I hope to see your photo choice soon. Not sure what I will do, or when.

Thanks so much for commenting,
Patricia said…
You chose a perfect photo, Diane...and I'm glad you did. I'd totally forgotten about the challenge.
Carol in Oregon said…
This is going in my journal.

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