The Lake Isle Of Innisfree

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 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.