Tuesday, July 14, 2009
The Story of Wandering Aengus
I went 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,
Had become a glimmering girl,
With apple blossoms in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And fades through the brightening air.
Though I am old witch 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.