Time with Yeats in These titles mean nothing.
- Oct. 29, 2020, 9:55 a.m.
- |
- Public
When You Are Old
W. B. Yeats - 1865-1939
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.
ODSago ⋅ October 29, 2020
My first glimmer of Yeats' poetry was this one. And now, I am old and gray...and it means ever-so much more to me than it did when I was a girl. Thanks.
NorthernSeeker ⋅ October 29, 2020
I'm surprised that Yeats died in 1939. Somehow I thought he lived about 100 years earlier. I remember reading some of Yeats' poetry during second year English literature class.
woman in the moon NorthernSeeker ⋅ October 29, 2020
He had an interesting life. There are youtubes about him.
Serin ⋅ October 29, 2020
Come away, O Human Child!
To the waters and the wild.
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
I always thought of Yeats as an 18-- poet and didn't realize how much 19xx he had in him.
woman in the moon Serin ⋅ October 29, 2020 (edited October 29, 2020)
Edited
Is that the poem about the Irish babies starving to death and the parents wanting to believe the fairies had taken them? Do you know its title?
There is a book by the guy who wrote Fight Club - Charles Michael Palahniuk. It's called Lullabye - about a secret song that would kill people who were dying- hasten their deaths as it were. Great book, great idea - once you get past the idea of it.
Lady of the Bann Serin ⋅ October 29, 2020
They used to dress baby boys in dresses so the fairies wouldn't take them.
Serin Lady of the Bann ⋅ October 29, 2020
The Stolen Child
So far as I know it's to do with the changeling myths, so not dead babies, just strange ones. Sick or small or odd or different. Maybe faerie stole the whole and true child and left a bad copy to take its place.
Jinn ⋅ October 30, 2020
I read this poem in High school and loved it . The phrase “ the pilgrim soul in you “ caught me dead center :-)
Purple Dawn ⋅ October 30, 2020
:)
noko ⋅ November 01, 2020
The last morning I was at the beach last week I woke up before sunrise and there were so many stars, we never see even a part of them in the city. I like the idea that all the love that has fled is up there hiding but also looking out for us.