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