he 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
he can understand.

W. B. YEATS.

Lay of Oisin on the Land of Youth

One day we, the Fianna, were all assembled, generous Fionn and all of us
that lived were there; we were hunting on a misty morning nigh the
bordering shores of Loch Lein, where through fragrant trees of sweetest
blossoms, and the mellow music of birds at all times, we aroused the
hornless deer of the best bounding, course, and agility; our hounds and
all our dogs were close after in full chase.

'Twas not long till we saw, westwards, a fleet rider advancing towards
us, a young maiden of most beautiful appearance, on a slender white
steed of swiftest power. We all ceased from the chase on seeing the form
of the royal maid; 'twas a surprise to Fionn and the Fianns, they never
beheld a woman equal in beauty. A royal crown was on her head, and a
brown mantle of precious silk, spangled with stars of red gold, covering
her shoes down to the grass. A gold ring was hanging down from each
yellow curl of her golden hair; her eyes were blue, clear, and
cloudless, like a dewdrop on the top of the grass. Redder were her
cheeks than the rose, fairer was her visage than the swan upon the wave,
and more sweet was the taste of her balsam lips than honey mingled
through red wine. A garment, wide, long, and smooth, covered the white
steed; there was a comely saddle of red gold, and her right hand held a
bridle with a golden bit. Four shoes, well shaped, were under him, of
the yellow gold of the purest quality; a silver wreath was on the back
of his head, and there was not in the world a steed better.

She came to the presence of Fionn, and spoke with a voice sweet and
gentle, and she said, "O King of the Fianna, long and distant is my
journey now."

"Who art thou thyself, O youthful princess! of fairest form, beauty, and
countenance? Relate to us the cause of thy story, thine own name and thy
country."

"Golden-headed Niamh is my name, O sage Fionn of the great hosts. Beyond
the women of the world I have won esteem; I am the fair daughter of the
King of Youth."

"Relate to us, O amiable princess, what caused thee to come afar across
the sea--is