The stolen child
"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."
William Butler Yeats,
I remember falling as a child
Being lifted by a faery-wild;
She kissed my cheek and mussed my hair
And then she wasn’t there.
Some blind folk see the faeries clear,
For faeries are always close or near,
Oh, better far than what we mortals see
Are faery wings that brush our faces
Like spiders’ webs and shimmering laces;
Such magical, lovely, lonely things.
A rustle in the wind reminds us
A faery sprite is near.
Shush! Do not scare her
She is full of fear, until her night is spent,
Her tears upon the pillow-scent…
Black crow she sings her lullaby as harsh as harsh can be
But the golden faery goddess, makes it so lovely for me.