“Yeats”

For WB Yeats…..born on this day, 1865

W.B. Yeats (1865–1939). The Wind Among the Reeds. 1899.

The Song of Wandering Aengus

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 a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone 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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About sknobloch

I am an Author, Artist, and Reiki Master and Intuitive Counselor, offering energy and guidance sessions on people and beloved pet companions. I divide my time between a Northern NJ suburb of Manhattan and Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. I enjoy pursuing paranormal explorations in this uniquely haunted town. Read more about me at www.briarrosereiki.com and http://shirlknoblochwillowfineartprintsandphotography.zenfolio.com/ All writings and photos © Shirl Knobloch.......no unauthorized copying or use permitted without written permission from the author and photographer, Shirl Knobloch.
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