The Poetics of Space by Gaston Bachelard

(Chapter 7 - miniature - II)

I shall first take a fragment from Cyrano de Bergerac, which is quoted in a very fine article by Pierre-Maxime Schuhl; entitled Le thème de Gulliver et le postulat de Laplace. Here the author is led to accentuate the intellectualist nature of Cyrano de Bergerac's amused images in order to  compare them with this astronomer-mathematician's ideas.  
The Cyrano text is the following: "This apple is a little universe in itself, the seed of which, being hotter than the other parts, gives out the conserving heat of its globe; and this germ, in my opinion, is the little sun of this little world, that warms and ffed the vegetative salt of this little mass."

The Poetics of Space, The Classic Look at How We Experience Intimate Places, Gaston Bachelard  

The Stolen Child by W. B. Yeats

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 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 gray 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 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

Gives them unquiet dreams;

Leaning softly out

From ferns that drop their tears

Over the young streams.

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.

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

Since 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, 
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.