( Words by W.B. Yeats, Music by Brian Miller )
|
|
I went out to the hazelwood
|
Because a fire was in my head
|
I 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 a berry in a stream
|
And caught a little silver trout
|
|
When I had laid it on the floor
|
And went to blow the fire aflame
|
And something rustled on the floor
|
And something 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 with wandering
|
Through hollow lands and hilly lands
|
I will find out where she has gone
|
And kiss her lips and take her hand
|
|
And walk through long green dappled grass
|
And pluck till time and times are done
|
The silver apples of the moon
|
And the golden apples of the sun
|
|
-----------------
|
Wandering Angus
|
| Jolie Holland |
