W.B. Yeats

Last semester I had enormous issues registering for courses at SFU because it's difficult to get into the small upper division English courses. I ended up taking a British Literature (from 1900-1945) course and LOVED it, probably more than any other English course I've taken except for the pre-1900 American Literature class I'm in now (I actually took it for the same reason as the last). Not only did my professor look like Dr. House, he was remarkably smart and sure knew how to plan a course. We read work from several different authors, but my favorite was W.B. Yeats. After reading his Complete Works, I fell in love with his writing and now consider him to be my favorite poet after William Shakespeare (the prologue to Romeo and Juliet just does it for me...). I found this poem and read it over and over again before posting it on my fridge and giving to to everyone I knew. It's definatly my favorite poem of all time, including anything by Shakespeare. There's something dark about it and something light about it; it is completely real and not trying to be romantic but it is quite possibly one of the most romantic poems ever written. If this makes sense at all, this poem reminds me of an oil painting done with rich warm tones, or a campfire by a lake with the stars shining.

"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 amid a crowd of stars.

W.B. Yeats (1865-1939)