I wish out to the hazel wood

Because a fire was in my head

And I cut and peeled a hazel wand

And hooked a berry with a thread

And when white moths were on the wing

And moth-like stars were flickering out

I dropped a 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 door

And someone called me by by name.

It had become a glimmering girl

With apple blossoms 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 goner

And kiss her lips andc 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