...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.
We visited the Cemetery in Dundalk, Sligo, Ireland, 1985.
Such a gifted poet, Susan. Now I definitely want to revisit more of Yeats' poetry. Have a wonderful Sunday!
ReplyDeleteHe has such a command of language.
DeleteWe also visited the cemetery, and I love the imagery his epitaph brought to mind. Well said!
ReplyDeleteThe cemetery was fascinating.
DeleteI do like wandering in old cemeteries. and agree with Yeats Pass on my horseman
ReplyDeleteWhen we lived in Ireland, we stopped at old cemeteries a lot. One really old one showed the bones inside the sepulcher. our kids ran away screaming.
DeleteHe did have a way with words.
ReplyDeleteYeats was a talented poet.
DeleteThe words are lovely but I really don't "get" a lot of poetry. I do like cemeteries though.
ReplyDeleteVisiting cemeteries is like viewing history.
DeleteThanks for this. I haven’t read Yeats for years. Far too long in fact.
ReplyDeleteSame here.
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