When You Are Old

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

nd nodding by the fire, take down this book,

nd 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,

nd loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,

nd loved the sorrows of your changing face;

nd bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

nd paced upon the mountains overhead

nd hid his face amid a crowd of stars.