| William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) Irish poet, dramatist, and prose writer, one of the greatest English-language poets of the 20th century. He received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923. Further Information |
The Stolen ChildThere dips the rocky islandOf 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, 0 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 gray 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 frothv bubbles, While the world is full of troubles And is anxious in its sleep. Come away, 0 human child I To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. |
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| 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, 0 human child To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more fall of weeping than you can understand. |
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| 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. |