Welcome

Welcome to Rialto. This is a blog where I hope you will find something of interest to you. I work in Further Education and my hope is to supplement my work in the classroom with extras and advice. I also like to dabble in creative writing and you will find bits and pieces along the way. Feel free to subscribe or pass by again and you may find something of interest.
John.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

The Stolen Child by William Butler Yeats with music by the Waterboys



This is a magical poem put to music beautifully by Mike Scott and the Waterboys. We all grew up with the myth of the fairies and who knows maybe they do exist. They certainly exist in our imagination. Some say they are the Tuatha De Dannan who were driven underground with the arrival of the Celts to our shores. Yeats paints a dream-like landscape, where one can venture for sometimes this 'world's more full of weeping than you can understand.'






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 berries
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 grey 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 is 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 scarce 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 to 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,
from a world more full of weeping than you can understand.

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