When You Are Old 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 to the earth, whispering, ‘Let me go,’ He would promise you eternal happiness, If only you believe he is also true, Until the day he takes you to the snow.

• William Butler Yeats