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 pavement gray,   I hear it in the deep heart's core.