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.

The Wind Among the Reeds (1899)

#IrishWriters #Ballad #RhymedStanza

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Isabella Koldras
about 3 years

...unlike the eternally young god of Irish mythology, Yeats's protagonist has grown old...affected by the passing of time...but trusts that in the after-life he finds the love, the "glimmering girl" he only glimpsed briefly on Earth...But what if she is only an aspect of poet's psyche...and his too "intellectualised" mind...and too elusive to find? Well...as long as he continues to have faith...life's worth living...Love this beautiful and romantic poem.

about 3 years

She's the one that got away... I love this one! great imagery!

Fatima Amal
almost 4 years

Love the imagery!

Liked or faved by...

Isabella Koldras Imrogue J.J Fatima Amal Catherine Ryan Louise Ortiz Pinto

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