The Lake Isle of Innisfree
William Butler Yeats
For
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 grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core
You can’t really go wrong with Yeats.
Where does all this natural beauty exist? The only thing that can make nature more beautiful than nature itself is time lapse photography -- and yet, that technological miracle itself presupposes the beauty of the very nature that it accelerates.