( 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
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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
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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
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