Saturday, October 14. 2006
        
                
        
                        
                                                    
            
            
                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. |   
             
            
            
            
         
        
        
                    
            
            
            
            
            
        
                    
        
        
             
    
    
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