William Butler Yeats

Yeats is one of my favorite poets. I enjoy his work for the complexities that lie within it. There are several poems which I adore. Lately, my mind has been on a person whom I care about very much. I haven't spoken to him in several years...I miss him and the influence he's had on me in the past. My creativity was at its most active when he was nearby and that creativity has been in a slump for the past few years as daily cares have taken over my mind. I wish I could reconnect with him again!

I think of him when I read the following poem, which I believe was intended for a woman who Yeats loved, but his affections were not reciprocated. I simply change the gender reference when I read it.

When You Are Old

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.