I will arise and go now, and go
to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there,
of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there,
a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud
glade.
And I shall have some peace there,
for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the
morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer,
and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's
wings.
I will arise and go now, for always
night and day
I hear lake water lapping with
low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or
on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
—W.B. Yeats