The Song of Wandering Aengus I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And I cut and peeled a hazel wand, And I went to the glade in the wood, And I sat down to make a fire.

When the trackless woods do twine, In a dream I’ll cast a line In the glade, nine pike-chub shall lie, And when the summer breaks, and leave The woodland dry, I will fly to thee.

And at the last, indeed, I should not shy, But learn deep buried wood-songs long ago. The hazel wand was full of mystery, So in the woodland depth I got the secret of the lines.

• William Butler Yeats