I‘ve always liked this poem by William Butler Yeats, but until today, I knew very little about the author. Having now read a summary of his life, it changed the meaning of the poem for me (not my positive feelings about it), and I’ve decided not to offer my opinion here until I hear what you, my readers, think about this poem.

When You Are Old

by William Butler Yeats

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.