I went out to the hazelwood
Because a fire was in my head
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 ground
And gone to blow the fire aflame
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 vanished in the brightening air
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands
I will find out where she has gone
And see her lips and take her hand
And walk through long green dappled gra**
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon
The golden apples of the sun