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when_you_are_old
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Death of a Rose
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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 (1865 - 1939)
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040901
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stork daddy
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i memorized this poem in 8th grade...and i've never forgotten it.
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040901
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suicidalchinadoll
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040901
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mangrove
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Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands
I will find out where she has gone
And kiss her lips and take her hand
And walk through long green dappled grass
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon
The golden apples of the sun.
Yeats, The Song of Wandering Aengus (excerpt)
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040902
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anne-girl
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I read this yesterday, coincidentally, it was in my english manual
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040902
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what's it to you?
who
go
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blather
from
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