Today's poem is brought to us by William Butler Yeats.
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 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.
By William Butler Yeats
About the poet
William Butler Yeats[a] (13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939) was an Irish poet, dramatist, prose writer and one of the foremost figures of 20th-century literature. A pillar of the Irish literary establishment, he helped to found the Abbey Theatre, and in his later years served two terms as a Senator of the Irish Free State. He was a driving force behind the Irish Literary Revival along with Lady Gregory, Edward Martyn and others.
Yeats
was born in Sandymount, Ireland, and educated there and in London. He
was a Protestant and member of the Anglo-Irish community. He spent
childhood holidays in County Sligo and studied poetry from an early age,
when he became fascinated by Irish legends and the occult. These topics
feature in the first phase of his work, which lasted roughly until the
turn of the 20th century. His earliest volume of verse was published in
1889, and its slow-paced and lyrical poems display debts to Edmund
Spenser, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and the poets of the Pre-Raphaelite
Brotherhood. From 1900, his poetry grew more physical and realistic. He
largely renounced the transcendental beliefs of his youth, though he
remained preoccupied with physical and spiritual masks, as well as with
cyclical theories of life. In 1923, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in
Literature.
References: Wikipedia
No comments:
Post a Comment