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THE STOLEN CHILD
By
William Butler Yeats

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 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 scare 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,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.

THE FAIRY CHILD
By
Lord Dunsany

From the low white walls and the church's steeple,

From our little fields under grass or grain,

I'm gone away to the fairy people

I shall not come to the town again.

You may see a girl with my face and tresses,

You may see one come to my mother's door

Who may speak my words and may wear my dresses.

She will not be I, for I come no more.

I am gone, gone far, with the fairies roaming,

You may ask of me where the herons are

In the open marsh when the snipe are homing,

Or when no moon lights nor a single star.

On stormy nights when the streams are foaming

And a hint may come of my haunts afar,

With the reeds my floor and my roof the gloaming,

But I come no more to Ballynar.

Ask Father Ryan to read no verses

To call me back, for I am this day

From blessings far, and beyond curses.

No heaven shines where we ride away.

At speed unthought of in all your stables,

With the gods of old and the sons of Finn,

With the queens that reigned in the olden fables

And kings that won what a sword can win.

You may hear us streaming above your gables

On nights as still as a planet's spin;

But never stir from your chairs and tables

To call my name. I shall not come in.

For I am gone to the fairy people.

Make the most of that other child

Who prays with you by the village steeple

I am gone away to the woods and wild.

I am gone away to the open spaces,

And whither riding no man may tell;

But I shall look upon all your faces

No more in Heaven or Earth or Hell.

THE FAERY QUEEN
By
Unknown

I walked upon a starlit night, it was the winter cold

I waited for the Moon to rise, and show what Fate would hold

Twas then I saw a Lady Fair with eyes of deepest green

Her hair was firy strands of light, like none I'd ever seen

Her step made no sound as she passed her body was so slight

And I was sure that if she would, she surely could take flight

She stopped before she passed me by - These words she said to me

Come and let us make our bed beneath yon Greenwood tree

Before you take your leaf come Day, one gift I'll give to thee

The gift I give will be whatever you shall ask of me

I lay with her the whole night through and clasped her to my chest

And knew before the morning's dew no gift would give me rest

Excepting if my Lady Fair would ever with me stay

And never would we part again or go our seperate way

I see that you have made your wish, my lady to me said

And then she placed a silver crown upon my waethered head

For she was Queen of all the fey, and I am now their King

And if you pass the Greenwood tree, you'll sometimes hear us sing

We sing of winters long and cold and springtimes warm and bright

And of a Lady's wondrous hair, of firy strands of light

UNTITLED
By
Fiona McCleod

Fair is the moonlight and fair the wood,

But not so fair as the place I come from.

Why did I leave it, the beautiful country

Where Death is only a drifting Shadow?

O face of Love, of Dream and Longing,

There is sorrow upon me that I am here.

I will go back to the Country of the Young,

and see again the lances of the sídhe.

As they keep hosting with laughing cries

in pale places under the moon.

I'D LOVE TO BE A FAIRY'S CHILD
By
Robert Graves

Children born of fairy stock
Never need for shirt or frock,
Never want for food or fire,
Always get their hearts desire:
Jingle pockets full of gold,
Marry when they're seven years old.
Every fairy child may keep
Two ponies and ten sheep;
All have houses, each his own,
Built of brick or granite stone;
They live on cherries, they run wild--
I'd love to be a Fairy's child.

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