#lake isle of innisfree

[kudossi]

carry me to innisfree

She finds herself on a precipice, grass under her paws and gray sky overhead. The smell of salt and the sound of crashing waves fill her senses; her claws dig into sand-strewn soil; her fur lifts with the ocean breeze, strong and stalwart, whipping steadily away from the rising sun. Below her lies ocean, depthless and desperately, achingly blue; beyond her lies water, leaping endlessly toward the golden, rocky shore.

The sun-drown-place, she thinks, and feels at once the age of eight moons and eighty season-cycles. She reaches at once for Feathertail, dead for countless pawsteps; for Tawnypelt, buried seasons ago; for Stormfur, lost to the crags of the mountains; for Crowfeather, who had closed his eyes only moons ago and had never opened them again. She does not reach for Bramblestar; she does not question why. She simply exists, with the ghosts of her friends almost corporeal at her sides, and watches as the wind plays with the waves, salty ocean spray spattering at her paws.

A pale bird swoops overhead, white and soft, feathery gray; with a bolt of delight, Squirrelflight recognizes it as a gull. It had been so long since she had chased them over sand and into the waves, their calls echoing against rocky cliffs. Brambleclaw had snorted, unamused; Feathertail had joined her, swimming through whitecaps and pouncing clumsily on birds until, with the exaggerated air of someone too good for noisy, troublesome birds, she had pulled the largest fish Squirrelflight had ever seen from the waves.

“You look like a drowned rat,” Squirrelpaw had told her, laughing, as Feathertail struggled with a fish bigger than both cats combined.

“Better than looking like a drowned squirrel,” Feathertail had countered, and then Tawnypelt had joined the fray, chasing an odd-looking creature across the shore, all hard shell and hard, straight tail and weird, wiggly, bug-like legs.

“What is this place?” Stormfur had asked, tipping over a bug-prey of his own.

“I don’t know!” Squirrelpaw had replied, delighted, and gotten a mouthful of saltwater for her trouble. She sputtered and spat and dissolved into giggles, lungs seizing and aching and burning, happier than she’d ever been.

[culturevulturette]

THE 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 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

[daisychainsandbowties]

i was never someone to ship a character with two people simultaneously until your warrior nun star wars AU came along and my experience with Lilith and Beatrice was “I hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me”

(of course it did)

what happened was i started thinking ‘hmm, maybe i’ll add one small drop of bealil to this’ and then two days later i was neck-deep in harrow x ianthe brainrot. and lilith was carrying bea in her arms. she was sitting on the beach to capture the sound of the waves for a girl whose life she destroyed (and saved)

i love that they’re a tragedy (and they know it) but the love happens anyway. bea is a shipwrecked sailor and lilith is the deep sea creature drawn to the surface by her struggling.

drawn to the surface by her light. bea clinging to lilith as the storm tosses them towards a distant shore.

they make me think (in their moments of grace) of Robert Frost’s poem ‘stopping by the woods on a snowy evening’

‘the woods are lovely, dark and deep,

but i have promises to keep,

and miles to go before i sleep,

and miles to go before i sleep.’

[appointmentwithmryeats]

[the4chambersofmystery]

[the-dust-jacket]

[astraque]

i don't really agree with Sally Rooney, but when she said ppl who like Yeats are incapable of love. yeah. real.

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

∞

you get “i will arise and go” by shawn kirchner!

“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.”

here’s the full poem btw

[poetictouch]

The Lake Isle Of Innisfree by William Butler Yeats - Read by Sir Anthony Hopkins

[pastorkempcom-blog]

I Hear Lake Water Lapping

A life without a lonely place, that is, without a quiet center, becomes destructive.” _Henri Nouwen A quiet place. Whether we think about it or not, we all need one. “A place where peace comes dropping slow…” I remember a little isolated pond from my boyhood. Swimming in the warm waters, soft mud under my feet, minnows nipping at my legs, being dried off by the warm sun while lying on green…

[alphareleasemedia]

The Lake Isle of Innisfree -- 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 gray, I hear it in the deep heart's core.

[appointmentwithmryeats]

"I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree

Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made

And I will live alone in the bee-loud glade

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow

Where midnight's all a-glimmer and noon a purple glow

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings

And the evening full, full of the linnet's wings

I will arise and go now for always night and day

While I stand on the roadside or on the pavements gray

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore

I hear it in the deep, the deep heart's core

There midnight's all a-glimmer and noon a purple glow

I will arise and go"

[the4chambersofmystery]

[dabiconcordia]

The 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 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. By William Butler Yeats

[g-raynard]

The 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.

--W.B. Yeats _______________________

A Deep Sworn Vow

Others because you did not keep That deep-sworn vow have been friends of mine; Yet always when I look death in the face, When I clamber to the heights of sleep, Or when I grow excited with wine, Suddenly I meet your face.

--W.B. Yeats ____________________

Down By the Salley Gardens

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet; She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet. She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree; But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.

In a field by the river my love and I did stand, And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand. She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs; But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

--W.B. Yeats ________________________

Never Give All The Heart

Never give all the heart, for love Will hardly seem worth thinking of To passionate women if it seem Certain, and they never dream That it fades out from kiss to kiss; For everything that's lovely is But a brief, dreamy, kind delight. O Never give the heart outright, For they, for all smooth lips can say, Have given their hearts up to the play. And who could play it well enough If deaf and dumb and blind with love? He that made this knows all the cost, For he gave all his heart and lost.

― W.B. Yeats __________________________________

Sailing To Byzantium

I

That is no country for old men. The young In one another's arms, birds in the trees--- Those dying generations---at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unaging intellect.

II

An aged man is but a paltry thing, A tattered coat upon a stick, unless Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing For every tatter in its mortal dress, Nor is there singing school but studying Monuments of its own magnificence; And therefore I have sailed the seas and come To the holy city of Byzantium.

III

O sages standing in God's holy fire As in the gold mosaic of a wall, Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre, And be the singing-masters of my soul. Consume my heart away; sick with desire And fastened to a dying animal It knows not what it is; and gather me Into the artifice of eternity.

IV

Once out of nature I shall never take My bodily form from any natural thing, But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make Of hammered gold and gold enamelling To keep a drowsy Emperor awake; Or set upon a golden bough to sing To lords and ladies of Byzantium Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

--W.B. Yeats _____________________________

The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of i{Spiritus Mundi} Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

--W.B. Yeats

_____________________________

[from The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats: Definitive Edition, With the Author's Final Revisions, Macmillan (January 1, 1956)]

[ukdamo]

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

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 grey, I hear it in the deep heart’s core.