Inspiring Enchantment & Illumination with Tarot & Intuitive Guidance

Saturday Poetry

The Song of Wandering Aengus
by W.B. Yeats


I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,

And 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 aflame,

But something rustled on the floor,

And some one 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 among long dappled grass,

And pluck till time and times are done

The silver apples of the moon,

The golden apples of the sun.

Comments on this entry are closed.

  • January 12, 2008, 7:42 pm Julie

    So beautiful! How do you find such lovely things for your site?

    Thank you for sharing them with us.

  • January 13, 2008, 8:16 am Beth Owl's Daughter

    It’s Magic! 🙂