The Song of the Wandering Aengus - WB Yeats. I went out to the hazel wood Because a fire was in my head And cut and peeled a hazel wand And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the wing And moth-like stars were flickering out I dropped the berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire a-flame, But something rustled on the floor, And some one called me by my name; It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossom in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air. Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
Posted on: Sat, 20 Jul 2013 10:59:55 +0000