Golden Apples Of The Sun

GOLDEN APPLES OF THE SUN
W: William Butler Yeats
M: Traditional
Judy Collins
Key: A

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I went out to the ha-zel-wood
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Be-cause a fire was in my head
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Cut and peeled a ha-zel wand
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And hooked a ber-ry to a thread

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And when white moths were on the wing
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And moth-like stars were flick-‘ring out
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I dropped the ber-ry in a stream
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And caught a lit-tle sil-ver trout

When I had laid it on the ground
And gone to blow the fire aflame
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 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 see 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
The golden apples of the sun