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.
I dropped the berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout.
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;
