When you are old, and I am passed away -
Passed, and your face, your golden face is gray -
I think, what-er the end, this dream of mine,
Comforting you, a friendly star will shine
Down the dim slope where you still stumble and stray.
So may it be: that so dead yesterday,
Not sad-eyed ghost but generous and gay,
May serve your memories like almighty wine,
When you are old!

Dear Heart, it shall be so. Under the sway
Of death the past-s enormous disarray
Lies hushed and dark. Yet though there come no sign,
Live on well pleased: immortal and divine
Love shall still tend you, as God-s angels may,
When you are old.