ぜんこうえん

　　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 shadow 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 sorrow 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.