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.

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  • 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! 🙂