The Lake Isle of Innisfree

The following poem, The Lake Isle of Innisfree, by Irish poet W.B. Yeats was framed above the bed I slept in last night.

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin buile 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 glen.

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 gray,
I hear it in the deep hearts' core.