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.