The Stolen Child

Where dips the rocky highland / Of Sleuth Wood in the lake, / There lies a leafy island / Where flapping herons wake / The drowsy water-rats; / There we’ve hid our faery vats, / Full of berries / And of reddest stolen cherries. / Come away, O human child! / To the waters and the wild / With a faery, hand in hand, / For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand // Where the wave of moonlight glosses / The dim grey sands with light, / Far off by furthest Rosses / We foot it all the night, / Weaving olden dances, / Mingling hands and mingling glances / Till the moon has taken flight; / To and fro we leap / And chase the frothy bubbles, / While the world is full of troubles / And is anxious in its sleep. / Come away, O human child! / To the waters and the wild / With a faery, hand in hand, / For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand // Where the wandering water gushes / From the hills above Glen-Car, / In pools among the rushes / That scarce could bathe a star, / We seek for slumbering trout / And whispering in their ears / Give them unquiet dreams; / Leaning softly out / From ferns that drop their tears / Over the young streams. / Come away, O human child! / To the waters and the wild / With a faery, hand in hand, / For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. // Away with us he’s going, / The solemn-eyed: / He’ll hear no more the lowing / Of the calves on the warm hillside / Or the kettle on the hob / Sing peace into his breast, / Or see the brown mice bob / Round and round the oatmeal-chest. / 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.