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 aflame
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 gra** and pluck 'til time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun