Lyrics The Stolen Child - Eric Whitacre
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.
William
Butler
Yeats,
1865-1939
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