Classic Poem

Ah, who is the stranger,
With morn in his eyes,
The desperate ranger
Of earth and skies?

Whose, whose are the fancies
That fly with the moon?
Ah, who is it dances
To the faery-pipes' tune?

Who is this finds his heaven
In his mother's blue eyes,
Ere the years number seven,
Or the morning star dies?

Ah, who is the stranger
Who never could die,
The scorner of danger?
Ah child, was it I?