here 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.

W. B. Yeats.


ne day we, the Fianna, were all assembled,
generous Fionn and all of us that lived were
there; we were hunting on a misty morning
nigh the bordering shores of Loch Lein,
where through fragrant trees of sweetest
blossoms, and the mellow music of birds at
all times, we aroused the hornless deer of the best bounding,
course, and agility; our hounds and all our dogs were close
after in full chase.
’Twas not long till we saw, westwards, a fleet rider advancing
towards us, a young maiden of most beautiful appearance,
on a slender white steed of swiftest power. We all ceased from
the chase on seeing the form of the royal maid; ’twas a surprise
to Fionn and the Fianns, they never beheld a woman equal in
beauty. A royal crown was on her head, and a brown mantle
of precious silk, spangled with stars of red gold, covering her
shoes down to the grass. A gold ring was hanging down from
each yellow curl of her golden hair; her eyes were blue, clear,
and cloudless, like a dewdrop on the top of the grass. Redder
were her cheeks than the rose, fairer was her visage than the
swan upon the wave, and more sweet was the taste of her
balsam lips than honey mingled through red wine. A garment,
wide, long, and smooth, covered the white steed; there was
a comely saddle of red gold, and her right hand held a bridle
with a golden bit. Four shoes, well shaped, were under him,
of the yellow gold of the purest quality; a silver wreath was
on the back of his head, and there was not in the world a
steed better.