Golden Apples of the Sun

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.

Sung by Judy Collins; lyrics by William Butler Yeats from the poem The Song of Wandering Aengus, music by Travis Edmonson