A poem from later in Yeats' life, and in fact from a book he published called The Tower, explicitly about growing old, "All Souls' Night" is, well, what it sounds like it is, Yeats reflecting as he sets out a glass of wine for the spirits.
Without going crazy and losing the thread of a "bite" here, Yeats was an occultist, formerly in the Golden Dawn, and still experimenting with automatic writing and other things even afterwards. I'm telling you that because he brings up MacGregor, who was MacGregor Mathers, the founder of the Golden Dawn.
For in my first hard springtime we were friends.
It's perhaps a stretch to label this one as gothic, but I really wanted to include it, because it's a somber reflection of what it means to live beyond the lives of others, to speak to the ghosts in the room.