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The
Lake Isle of Innisfree
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles
made: Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee 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.
William Butler Yeats
Nick O'Lean |