Wandering Angus

(Words by W.B. Yeats, Music by Brian Miller) I went out to the hazelwood Because a fire was in my head 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 a berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout When I had laid it on the floor And went to blow the fire aflame And something rustled on the floor And something called me by my name It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossoms in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And vanished in 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 hand And walk through long green dappled grass And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon And the golden apples of the sun