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.

wander-thirst

beyound the east the sunrise; beyound the west the sea 

and east and west the wander- thirst that will not let me be;

it works in me like madness to bid me say goodbye, 

for the seas call, and the star call , and oh!the call of the sky!

i know not where the white roads runs, nor what the blue hills are,

but a man can have the sun for friend, and for his guide, a star;

and theres no end to voyaging when once the voice is heard,

for the rivers call, and the road calls, and oh!the call of a bird!

yonder the long horizon lies and there by night and day 

the old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away

and come i may, but go i must, and if men ask you why, 

you may put the blame on the stars and the sun, 

and the white road and the sky.

by Gerald Gould 

i am tired. its been a long week. i felt mediocre in school which is super fusterating.i want to go to spain. i want to move. i want this headache to go away. is this good enough for you beth?

"If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

 If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too: 

 If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, 

Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,

 Or being hated don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good nor talk too wise;

 If  you can dream- and not make dreams your master;

If you canthink- and not make thoughts your aim, 

 If you can meet with triumph and disaster

And treat those two imposters just the same:

 If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken 

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, 

 Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, 

And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

 

 If you can make one heap of all your winnings 

And risk it on one turn of pitch- and-toss,  

 And lose, and start again at your beginnings,

And never breathe a word about your loss: 

 If you can force you heart and nerve and sinew   

To serve your turn long after they are gone   

 And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the will that says to them "hold on!"

 If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings-nor lose the common touch, 

 If neither foe nor loving friend can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none to much:

 If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty secounds' worth of distence run,

 Yours is the earth and everything in it

And which is more you'll be a man, my son"

RUDYARD KIPLING

damn sidney...so freaken crafty

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN- robert frost

two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

and sorry i could not travel both

and looked down one as far as i could

to where it bent in the undergrowth;

then took the other,as just as fair,

and having perhaps the better claim,

because it was grassy and wanted wear;

though  as for that the passing there 

had worn them really about the same

and both that morning equally lay

in leaves no step had trodden black

oh, i kept the first for another day!

yet knowing how way leads onto way,

i doubted if i shall ever come back.

i shall be telling this with a sigh

somewhere ages and ages hence:

two roads diverged in a wood and i--

i took the one less traveled by,

and that has made all the difference.

come now my friends 't is not to late to seek a newer world push off, and sitting well in order smite the sounding furrow; for my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset and the baths of the western stars until i die. it may be that the gulf will wash us down;  it may be we shall touch the happy isles, and see the great achilles, whom we knew. tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho' we are that strength which in old days moved earth and heaven, that we are we are- one equal temper of heroic heats, made week by time time and ,but strong in will to strive to seek to find and not to yield-alfred tennyson