hfjdshhf

It�s tempting at times

to pack it in and find someplace in the mountains where
I can live off the fat of the land. That is the Romantic dream, to become one with
nature in an idyllic locale far off the beaten path, far from all the chaos in my
own world and the constant stresses and anxieties that grip my soul. �I will arise
and go now, and go to Innisfree,� W.B. Yeats wrote. In �Innisfree,� one�s mind is
free, and residents of the lake isle there are fully attuned to the �lake water
lapping with low sounds by the shore.� In my bucolic splendor, I too would live
among the birds and beasts of the realm, alone with only my
thoughts, a notebook, and the Earth�s resplendence.
enna
than
nadakum
nadaktumey
bfdh
fjhf
fkdfs
fkijd
fdidfj

But, of course, I won�t really do that. Innisfree is only imagined, according to

the author�s introduction to my Yeats poetry collection

Yeats too was a little late to the Romantic party, the movement having reached its
peak decades earlier. Still, even if the Romantic vision he and I both share is a
bit atavistic,

Yeats, William Butler. �The Lake Isle at Innisfree.� The Collected Poems of W.B.
Yeats. Ed. Richard J. Finneran. 2nd ed. New York: Simon & Schuster Inc. 1989. 39.
Print.