William Butler Yeats - The Golden Apples of the Sun lyrics

I went into the hazel wood Because a fire was in my head And cut and peeled a hazel wand And tied a berry to a thread And when white moths were on the wing And moth-like stars were flickering out I threw the berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout And when I laid it on the ground And gone to blow the fire aflame Then something rustled on the floor And someone called me by my name It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossoms in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And vanished in the brightening air Though I am old from wandering In quiet lands and hilly lands I will find out where she has gone And know her mouth and take her hands And walk along green dappled gra** And pluck till time and time is done The silver apples of the moon The golden apples of the sun