WANDERING ANGUS

(GOLDEN APPLES OF THE SUN)



Em Dm / G Bm Am Em / G Bm Am Em / Bm Em



I went out to the hazelwood

Because a fire was in my head

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

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 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

The golden apples of the sun.



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Poem by William Butler Yeats, a great Irish poet at the turn of

the century. The tune is traditional.

On Judy Collins' GOLDEN APPLES and in her SONGBOOK. Also on some

early Burl Ives. Donovan wrote a better tune.

@plant

filename[ WANDANG

DC

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