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Feb. 9th, 2008 05:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
triple_flameJust because ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
simara and I happened to be talking about it the other day I ended up searching out the lyrics to 'The Stolen Child' by W.B 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 berrys
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.
Thing is I'm sure I remember a poem based on the Wild Hunt, it goes in cycles of the Huntsman calling a child, the Child telling his father what is happening and the Father coming up with some rational explanation for it. Eventually the Child goes with the Huntsman and his Father is left with only a corpse. Something tells me that the child was ill and the reason he and his father were out was that they were going to the house of the doctor. It's one of those things that is sitting in the back of my mind and I think I may have discovered through it being mentioned in a book somewhere. I can't however remember the title or the name of the author. I have tried Googling it but with not much to go on I've turned up a blank. Anyone out there have any ideas?
simara and I happened to be talking about it the other day I ended up searching out the lyrics to 'The Stolen Child' by W.B 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 berrys
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.
Thing is I'm sure I remember a poem based on the Wild Hunt, it goes in cycles of the Huntsman calling a child, the Child telling his father what is happening and the Father coming up with some rational explanation for it. Eventually the Child goes with the Huntsman and his Father is left with only a corpse. Something tells me that the child was ill and the reason he and his father were out was that they were going to the house of the doctor. It's one of those things that is sitting in the back of my mind and I think I may have discovered through it being mentioned in a book somewhere. I can't however remember the title or the name of the author. I have tried Googling it but with not much to go on I've turned up a blank. Anyone out there have any ideas?
