Back to Blighty

Things will have to be a little quiet for a day or two - we are travelling back to England and I am in the midst of my usual chaotic preparations.

A poem which I learnt as a child in Ireland has been flitting through my head. I learnt it so well that I can still recite it off by heart. I've always loved it, even when it was being drilled into me!

The Lake Isle of Inisfree - William Butler 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;
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 heart's core.