I WENT out to the hazel wood, <br />Because a fire was in my head, <br />And cut and peeled a hazel wand, <br />And hooked a berry to a thread; <br />And when white moths were on the wing, <br />And moth-like stars were flickering out, <br />I dropped the berry in a stream <br />And caught a little silver trout. <br />When I had laid it on the floor <br />I went to blow the fire aflame, <br />But something rustled on the floor, <br />And some one called me by my name: <br />It had become a glimmering girl <br />With apple blossom in her hair <br />Who called me by my name and ran <br />And faded through the brightening air. <br />Though I am old with wandering <br />Through hollow lands and hilly lands. <br />I will find out where she has gone, <br />And kiss her lips and take her hands; <br />And walk among long dappled grass, <br />And pluck till time and times are done <br />The silver apples of the moon, <br />The golden apples of the sun.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-song-of-wandering-aengus/
