saint patrick's day

the lake isle of innisfree

by 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.

the rune of saint patrick

at tara today in this fateful hour

i place all heaven with its power,

and the sun with its brightness,

and the snow with its whiteness,

and fire with all the strength it hath,

and lightning with its rapid wrath,

and the winds with their swiftness along their path,

and the sea with its deepness,

and the rocks with their steepness,

and the earth with its starkness

all these i place,

by god's almighty help and grace,

between myself and the powers of darkness.

 i finished my cowl and chanda worked from her vedic math book.

 and we read nicholas nickleby . . chapter xiii: nicholas varies the monotony of dotheboys hall by a most vigorous and remarkable proceeding, which leads to consequences of some importance (a most wonderful and excellent chapter which thankfully propelled our interest to continue onward and forward into the midst of the ensuing consequential chapter).

corned beef and cabbage . .