Song of the Wandering Aengus

 

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I WENT out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
Cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;

 

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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,
Something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name

 

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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;


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And walk through long green dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,

The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun

~W.B.

Yeats

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With Love,

from Daniel.