The poem
When I am old I will not have you look apart From me, into the cold, Friend of my heart, Nor be sad in your remembrance Of the careless, mad-heart semblance That the wind hath blown away When I am old.
When I am old And the white hot wonder-fire Unto the world seem cold, My soul's desire Know you then that all life's shower, The rain of the years, that hour Shall make blow for us one flower, Including all, when we are old.
When I am old If you remember Any love save what is then Hearth light unto life's December Be your joy of past sweet chalices To know then naught but this "How many wonders are less sweet Than love I bear to thee When I am old."
In Tempore Senectutis
When I am old
I will not have you look apart
From me, into the cold,
Friend of my heart,
"How many wonders are less sweet
Than love I bear to thee
When I am old." Such a beautiful poem of love.