When you are old and grey and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire take down this book and slowly read and drem 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 love the sorrows of your changing face and bending down beside the glowing bars murmur,a little sadly, how love fled
And peace upon the mountains
overhead and hid his face amid a crowd of stars
W,B,Yeats