From the recording 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)