• Skip to main content
  • Skip to footer

William Landay

Official website of the author

  • Books
    • All That Is Mine
    • Defending Jacob
    • The Strangler
    • Mission Flats
  • News
    • Updates
    • Blog
  • Events
    • Appearances
    • Podcasts
    • Print
  • More
    • About
    • Contact
You are here: Home / Art / Poetry / Sunday poem

Sunday poem

February 1, 2015

When you are old and grey 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.

— William Butler Yeats

This poem was composed in 1892, when Yeats was only 27 years old.

Filed Under: Poetry Tagged With: poems, W.B. Yeats

Footer

  • Amazon
  • Facebook
  • Goodreads
  • Instagram
  • Threads