And I Will Never Grow So Old Again

Van Morrison: Sweet Thing

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.

--W.B. Yeats
When You Are Old

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DARLIN'