Heather Alexander 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 fairy vats full of berries,
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O, human child!
To the woods and waters wild with a fairy hand in hand,
For the worlds more full of weeping than you can
understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses the dim grey sand
with light,
Far off by farthest 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 woods and waters
wild.
With a fairy 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
eaars;
We give them evil dreams,
Leaning softly out from ferns that drop their tears
Of dew on the young streams.
Come! O human child! To the woods and waters wild,
With a fairy 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
hill-side.
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 woods and waters
wild,
With a fairy hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can
understand.
