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

by far off 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

whilst the world is full of troubles

and is anxious in its sleep. 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

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

for the world's more full of weeping

than you can understand.