William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

When You Are Old

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.

(The Countess Kathleen and

Various Legends and Lyrics, 1892)

Georgia Douglas Johnson (1880-1966)

A Paradox

I know you love me better cold

Strange as the pyramids of old
Responselessly.
But I am frail, am spent and weak
With surging torrents that bespeak
A living fire.
So, like a veil, my poor disguise
Is draped to save me from your eyes’
Deep challenges.
Fain would I fling this robe aside
And from you, in your bosom hide
Eternally.
Alas! you love me better cold
Like frozen pyramids of old
Unyieldingly?

(An Autumn Love Cycle, 1928)

Dorothy Parker (1893-1967)

One Perfect Rose

A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.

All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet -
One perfect rose.

I knew the language of the floweret;

'My fragile leaves,' it said, 'his heart enclose.'
Love long has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.

Why is it no one ever sent me yet

One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it's always just my luck to get
One perfect rose. 

(Enough Rope, 1926)