The speaker addresses his aging partner, remembering how she was once called beautiful. The years—and perhaps the strains of their life together—have worn away the bloom of her face, dimmed her voice, and turned her outward beauty inward. Yet he does not simply mourn that loss. He sees her as a fire that once leapt brightly and now burns low but deep, a darker, aching glow he still draws warmth from. In the final stanza he touches her aged body—her silvered hair, hollow cheeks, thin hands—with clear tenderness and desire. The poem becomes a quiet question: can she still feel his love as strongly as he feels hers? The mood is intimate and bittersweet, full of closeness, reverence, and the sense that beauty and youth still burn invisibly between them.
In Those Old Days — Summary
In those old days you were called beautiful, But I have worn the beauty from your face; The flowerlike bloom has withered on your cheek With the harsh years, and the fire in your eyes Burns darker now and deeper, feeding on Beauty and the remembrance of things gone. Even your voice is altered when you speak, Or is grown mute with old anxiety For me.
Even as a fire leaps into flame and burns Leaping and laughing in its lovely flight, And then under the flame a glowing dome Deepens slowly into blood-like light:-- So did you flame and in flame take delight, So are you hollow'd now with aching fire. But I still warm me and make there my home, Still beauty and youth burn there invisibly For me.
Now my lips falling on your silver'd skull, My fingers in the valleys of your cheeks, Or my hands in your thin strong hands fast caught, Your body clutched to mine, mine bent to yours: Now love undying feeds on love beautiful, Now, now I am but thought kissing your thought ... --And can it be in your heart's music speaks A deeper rhythm hearing mine: can it be Indeed for me?