I used to recite this one to my kids at bedtime.<\/p>\n
The Song of the Wandering Aengus<\/strong><\/p>\n I went out to the hazel wood, When I had laid it on the floor Though I am old with wandering I used to recite this one to my kids at bedtime. The Song of the 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 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-353","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/vivtown.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/353","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/vivtown.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/vivtown.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/vivtown.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/vivtown.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=353"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"http:\/\/vivtown.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/353\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":648,"href":"http:\/\/vivtown.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/353\/revisions\/648"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/vivtown.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=353"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/vivtown.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=353"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/vivtown.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=353"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nBecause a fire was in my head,
\nAnd cut and peeled a hazel wand,
\nAnd hooked a berry to a thread;
\nAnd when white moths were on the wing,
\nAnd moth-like stars were flickering out,
\nI dropped the berry in a stream
\nAnd caught a little silver trout.<\/p>\n
\nI went to blow the fire a-flame,
\nBut something rustled on the floor,
\nAnd someone called me by my name:
\nIt had become a glimmering girl
\nWith apple blossom in her hair
\nWho called me by my name and ran
\nAnd faded through the brightening air.<\/p>\n
\nThrough hollow lands and hilly lands,
\nI will find out where she has gone,
\nAnd kiss her lips and take her hands;
\nAnd walk among long dappled grass,
\nAnd pluck till time and times are done,
\nThe silver apples of the moon,
\nThe golden apples of the sun.<\/p>\n
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"