The Stolen Child - William Butler Yeats (Wkp):
Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed -
He'll hear no more the lowing -oh-
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 fairy, hand in hand
For this world's more full of weeping than he can understand