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 among a crowd of stars.
I ... I just wanted to share this with you. It is out of the Yeats book Gregory bought me ... I miss him - still no sign.
I am having the 5th single malt (Oban) and some ... ehm ... pain reliever I found. Geinen wanted to convince me that he has seen him at the strip joint in town ... I don't believe him!
Currently listening to The Killers - When you were young.