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W.B. Yeats
“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 Song of Wandering Aengus
William Butler Yeats, A Poet to His Beloved: The Early Love Poems of W.B. Yeats

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Ashley ...
0 books | 15 friends

Julie B...
261 books | 20 friends

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1 book | 1 friend

Thia
95 books | 6 friends

Andrea
6 books | 3 friends





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