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W. B. Yeats

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 had 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.

About the poet
W. B. Yeats
 
By the same poet
The Lake Isle of Innisfree
When You Are Old
Where My Books Go
He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
The Second Coming
An Irish Airman Foresees His Death
Sailing to Byzantium
The Scholars
Long-Legged Fly
Byzantium
Memory
The Fascination of What’s Difficult
The Great Day
The Circus Animals’ Desertion
Vacillation
 
Related books
W. B. Yeats at amazon.co.uk


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