Longing for Ireland

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.

—The Lake Isle of Innisfree, by William Butler Yeats

Oh how I long to visit Ireland.  A friend recently asked me if Innisfree was a real place in Ireland.  I found this delightful poem and a couple of images.  Now I guess I need to watch The Quiet Man, which is on my top 20 list of favorite films.