The Lake Isle of Innisfree, by W.B. Yeats

Skagit River Mist/PFly CC-BY-SA-2.0


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;

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.

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), Nobel Prize winning Irish dramatist, author and poet.

The poetry of WB Yeats occupies a large place in my heart and is one of my favorite sources of inspiration.  In his early years, Yeat’s was not afraid to write of faeries and mystical things that fired my childish imagination. Later, as he grew as both a writer and as a person, he also wrote wonderful works that were more firmly rooted in reality. The Lake Isle of Innisfree was published in 1890.


Filed under #FlashFictionFriday, Fantasy, Poetry

3 responses to “The Lake Isle of Innisfree, by W.B. Yeats

  1. TermiteWriter

    Yeats is a great poet. Do you know “Lines Written in Dejection”? I have in my mind a unwritten book which I want to entitle “The Dark Leopards of the Moon” from this poem (also use the poem as the book’s epigraph). Here it is:

    When have I last looked on
    The round green eyes and the long wavering bodies
    Of the dark leopards of the moon?
    All the wild witches, those most noble ladies,
    For all their broom-sticks and their tears,
    Their angry tears, are gone.
    The holy centaurs of the hills are banished;
    I have nothing but the harsh sun;
    Heroic mother moon has vanished,
    And now that I have come to fifty years
    I must endure the timid sun.


    • The works of Yeats have loomed large in my reading-for-contemplation life. Of all the great ones, he vies with Shelley and Byron as my favorite poet. “Lines Written in Dejection” is a short poem, but is one that strikes a chord in my heart. To me, it is wonderful how he chooses the words with the most visual impact. Thus, the poem is complete in eleven lines. Sheer beauty!

      I think it would be a wonderful epigraph, and I love your idea of using his imagery as a title.


      • TermiteWriter

        Shelley was my favorite poet in college (I was an English major)., The book I have in mind will be about a woman who has accomplished great things in her life and now in her later years is feeling alone and dejected, so the poem fit perfectly.