The Lake Isle of Innisfree
I will arise and I will fly, Innisfree and go,
and a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made: nine
grooves bean I have there, a hive for the honey,
and live alone in the glade hum.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
midnight there is a glimmer, and noon a purple glow
evening full of linnet's wings.
I will arise and I will march, night and day,
hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the road or on the pavements gray
I hear in the depths of the heart.
William Butler Yeats (Dublin, 1865-1939)
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