When You Are Old
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.