Wandering Angus




I went out to the hazel wood,             
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 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 (on through the)* long dappled grass,             
And pluck till time and times are done             
The silver apples of the moon,             
The golden apples of the sun.  


(From the album "misfit hymns")

music by James Houlahan

published by Gumbo Luvah Music

lyrics by W. B. Yeats

(*”among” in the original)