Thursday Short Poem: Yeats’ “Innisfree”

Rarely do I pick as well-known a poem as this one for my Thursday Short Poem offering.  But I’m trying to go through favorite poems from different periods in my life.  This was the first "adult" poem I loved; my mother read it to me first when I was six or seven, and it was surely the first grown-up verse I was able to understand.  It was also the first poem I ever memorized, and it’s a good one to recite silently when one is feeling overwhelmed and tired and surrounded by pressure.

Lake Isle of Innisfree

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 honeybee,
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.

4 Responses to “Thursday Short Poem: Yeats’ “Innisfree””


  1. 1 John Remy

    I fell in love with the poem after hearing an old recording of Yeats reading it.

  2. 2 Erin C.

    There’s also a beautiful sung version on new age artist Bill Douglas’s album Cantilena.

  3. 3 kate.d.

    i’m sorry if this sounds morbid - i don’t mean it in that sense - but i have a strong sense that i will read this poem at my father’s funeral one day. i passed it along to him while studying irish lit in college, and having grown up on a lake himself, he has really taken a liking to it.

    i think part of him just likes knowing a poem by a dead irish writer, but that’s ok too :)

    anyway, nice choice…

  4. 4 Tefnut

    It’s one of my favorite poems as well.

    My brother killed himself three weeks ago. At the funeral I could not read the poem. I was too angry to talk of peace. But the Thirty (Jewish custom- 30 days after the burial the family goes back to the grave and the headstone is uncovered) is coming up, and I hope to be able to translate it into Hebrew and read it then.

    My brother deserves the peace he so desperately wanted. And so do we.

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