The Lake Isle of Innisfree

W.B. Yeats

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;