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 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 bank, And gone to blow the fire in flame, I looked and hooked a berry to a thread; And again came Aengus, the same.

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 among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.

• William Butler Yeats