I thought I had found a magic swan
but it was a migrating snowgoose.
I thought I was linked invisibly to another's life
but I found myself more alone with him than without him
I thought I had found a fire
but it was the play of light on bright stones.
I thought I was wounded to the core
but I was only bruised.
William B. Yeats - The Song of Wandering Aengus
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 aflame, But something rustled on the floor, And some one 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.