The Stolen Child

Where dips the rocky highland Of sleuthing glen, I look away And leave in her splashy eyes The laughter and smiles of night.

I will leave my soul to run In the glen, where the bright swans lie, Catching myself, my gentle heart, While lilies dance and rivers sigh.

The child I stole from sleep, I’ll leave to dream, that all may see How deep into that forest’n The magic of the wild can be.

• William Butler Yeats