Hope is the thing with feathers

Poesy Thursdays continue!

Here's a classic:

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
                                    ~Emily Dickinson

Poesy Thursdays

So, because I'm a total English nerd and love poetry, I've decided to do a new feature on my blog called . . .

Poesy Thursdays!


It's gonna be good.

Basically, I'm just going to post a favorite poem of mine (whether because it's beautiful, interesting, or intellectually stimulating), and tell you why I love it. And if you want, you're more than welcome to post your thoughts in the comments.

Even more basically, it's just a way to get my inner nerd out and rejoice in the beauty of language, imagery, and metaphor. Because it really is something to rejoice in. :)

It's so hard choosing a poem to start with . . . but I chose William Butler Yeats's The Lake Isle of Innisfree.


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


Isn't it beautiful? It just ends with a sigh. I love this poem because of the beauty of its language. "Bee-loud glade," "midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow." Mmm. The language is just delicious. I also love the line, "For peace comes dropping slow." Isn't that how peace does come? It is like a veil, coming slowly over your heart and mind, calming you.

I also love how it connects with me--and with all of us, I feel. Don't we all have some place like Innisfree that we go to when the world is hectic and we stand on "the pavements gray"? Some childhood or favorite place where the memories are too golden to be true, but we know that if we could just go back, we would have simplicity and joy in our lives?

There is certainly an Innisfree for me. And I do "hear it in the deep heart's core."