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 T… - William Butler Yeats

And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun.

...and pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.

Land of Heart's Desire,
Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood,
But joy is wisdom, time an endless song.

For he comes, the human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
From a world more full of weeping
than he can understand.

All shuffle there; all cough in ink;
All wear the carpet with their shoes;
All think what other people think;
All know the man their neighbour knows.
Lord, what would they say
Did their Catullus walk that way?