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 gra*s And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon And the golden apples of the sun