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.

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: William Butler Yeats (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.