Friday, April 3, 2009

The Lake Isle of Innisfree...by W.B. Yeats

No matter how far you go, it's hard at times to beat WBY. This I love because it reminds me of where I grew up, a place where 'peace comes dropping slow', that I can always close my eyes and see, no matter how grey the pavement.

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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.

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