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 grey,
I hear it
in the deep heart’s core.