Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp. The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse. 1922.
When You Are OldWilliam Butler Yeats (18651939)
W
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;
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.
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.