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Bob_R[_3_] · **US - Wandering Aengus 2020-07-21**

Wandering Aengus westbound in Cape Cod Canal.

Kilgore Trout[_2_] · **US - Wandering Aengus 2020-07-21**

In article , says...

Wandering Aengus westbound in Cape Cod Canal.

begin 644 Wandering Aengus.jpg

That's an unusual name...

The Song of Wandering Aengus

By William Butler Yeats

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.

--
Al McCann
albert(dot)mccann(at)outlook(dot)com

Bob_R[_3_] · **US - Wandering Aengus 2020-07-21**

On Mon, 16 Nov 2020 15:11:56 -0500, Kilgore Trout
wrote:

In article , says...

Wandering Aengus westbound in Cape Cod Canal.

begin 644 Wandering Aengus.jpg

That's an unusual name...

The Song of Wandering Aengus

By William Butler Yeats

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.

Thanks for the info. I kept meaning to do an Internet search for that
name and never got to it. I'm going to copy your post and save it in
the folder with that day's pictures for the next time I wonder about
it.
Bob

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