THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS

by W. B. YeatsI 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 streamAnd caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floorI went to blow the fire aflame,

But something rustled on the floor,

And someone called me by my name:

It had become a glimmering girlWith apple blossom in her hair

Who called me by my name and ranAnd faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wanderingThrough 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