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
~ William Butler Yeats, The Stolen Child
♥
Even the fairies here think it’s spring already!
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
~ William Butler Yeats, The Stolen Child
♥
Even the fairies here think it’s spring already!
DirtNKids Blog 
I looked up the full poem, which was new to me, and read it.
It’s as much of a song as a poem, so I can imagine someone setting it to music.
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It is a great poem! I now feel compelled to put the entire passage where it can be read by all. I strive to read it using my best Gaelic accent. I’ll have to work on the musical bit…or let my kids do that for me. Cheers, Steve.
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 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 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
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