...loved the Pilgrim soul in you.
WHEN you are old and gray 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 think I need a nap!
ReplyDeleteWe just replaced our kitchen, and I know what you mean.
DeleteNice. I've never read Yeats...
ReplyDeleteWe lived in Ireland and stood over his headstone. Just a profound feeling,
DeleteThat's really lovely, Susan.
ReplyDeleteYeats is the prime poet of Ireland.
DeleteHow beautiful.....
ReplyDeleteYeats uses words so beautifully.
DeleteNow I want to nap beside the heater.
ReplyDeleteOr a peat fire.
DeleteWhy do my eyes leak whenever I read Years?
ReplyDeleteHe has the gift to take readers to the different zones.
Delete