Saturday, August 11, 2012

The Song of Wandering Aengus

The Song of Wandering Aengus

 

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 laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone 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.



Back from Nod #8



2 comments:

  1. Thank you!

    I am so glad you like it. . . I was very inspired by the apple tree in my yard (pictured). If I find a fish picture worthy of Mr. Yeats, I shall add it.

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