‘AND I SHALL HAVE SOME PEACE THERE’ (February 2011) got its title from a poem I first read in college, more than 30 years ago. For each of us, I suppose, there is a poem or poems that we never forget; William Butler Yeats’s “The Lake Isle of Innisfree” is one of mine. When it was time to name the book I had just finished writing, in November 2009, I could think of nothing better to call it than the Yeats line that had long called out to me:
‘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 gray,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
(You can listen to a historic reading of this poem by Yeats himself on the Poetry Archive.)
Oh, Margaret. This is marvelous. What a gorgeous, gorgeous title, and what a great poem. Reminds me of The Song of Wandering Aengus, also by Yeats:
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
@Sarah: Isn’t he something?
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
I have loved Yeats since the very first moment I heard him, at age 20ish…which was just 9 years ago. :) His poems for Maud Gonne (“When you are old and gray and full of sleep…”) and so on. Lovely. Glad you like, too. Hugs.
Thank you for that Margaret – great way to greet the morning! you have taken me back to my youth (did you ever visit ‘Innisfree’ (the gardens) in Millbrook NY? and my college days (Senior thesis in Modern Poetry, but I begged to write on the Romantic poets!) And since I don’t have to “go” to work today and it looks like it might not be a day in the garden here in CT, I think I will head for the book shelves – maybe read poetry! Thank you, Margaret, you are better than the newspaper every morning!
How lovely. There’s a farm in Leelanau County, Michigan’s pinky finger, called Nine Bean Rows. Now I know where their name comes from too. Thanks for the morning grace note.
…and I have just discovered Yeats in my late 50s. As a librarian, I’d always tried to include poetry when offering suggestions to young folks but had never taken the time to savor the offerings myself! I’d just read about your new book in the morning and then dipped into a Yeats collection that night … to find you again! I’ve been changed forever, I think.
Looks like I will be adding a book of Yeats’ poetry to my “must have this book” list. I loved them both. Margaret, I am so looking forward to your book’s release (it is already on the list!). They say to not judge a book by it’s cover, but I will tell you….the cover had me instantly; a lovely title and lovely picture.
Best to you…Carol
P.S. I just scored a copy of A Way to Garden and it arrived via a bookseller through Amazon. I have not opened the package yet. I am waiting for the perfect uninterrupted moment with a cup of tea to savor the experience. I plan to photograph the event (ha ha) and do a blog entry on it as well. I can’t wait!
Both of those poems are marvelous. I first encountered The Song of the Wandering Aengus as a song done by Tommy Makem probably in the late 60′s or 70′s. It is incredible. I have no idea if it is available as a download from anywhere but it would be worth finding if you love the poem.
I should be working but I went to your website, what a beautiful way to start the day. I know I’ll be stopping back all day to find my peace.
When I read the title of your book my heart swelled….one of my favorite poems in the world with I think my favorite line ever, “and live alone in the bee-loud glade”. Yeats was deeply tuned in, as you are. Congratulations on the title and the book…can’t wait to read it!
Hi Margaret – I just found your website after all these years – I bought A Way To Garden when it was first published after reading your articles in Martha’s magazine, and it is still my favorite of all my gardening books (OK maybe a tossup with some of Beverly Nichols!) – anyway, can’t wait to read your new book, and thanks for your blog. I just retired and am looking forward to some ‘real’ time in my garden, not just the rushed Saturday morning thing.
Think this may have been inpsiration to that great book for Romatics
BRIDGES OF MADISON COUNTY.
Seems to me your book will be just as beloved as we are all waiting for it.
Yeats and Wordsworth…two of my favorites! A memorable and lovely title!
Yesterday I received in the mail a used copy of A Way to Garden. I ordered it from eBay two weeks ago and have been on pins and needles waiting to find out what condition it was in. Unlike Carol, I could not wait for an interrupted moment and tore into it the moment I saw the package. What luck! It is in great condition! I feel like I have found a hidden treasure.
Looking forward to your new book and enjoying the blog in the meantime.
Welcome, D; what a nice story, thank you. You will have many years of enjoyment with Yeats, no doubt, now that you have found him. I have never forgotten this one, either:
When You are Old
WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
Welcome, Terry. Glad to be reconnected. How nice of you to stop and say hello and share such kind words. I hear you about “real time” in the garden. Sad that we only had bits of weekends for so long, huh?
Welcome also to Janine, whose comment hid in spam until I found it a little bit belatedly; oops. Glad to unravel the mystery of that name for you, another serendipity. See you all soon again, I hope.
Not Yeats, but Symons knows my secret place -
In the Wood of Finvara
I have grown tired of sorrow and human tears;
Life is a dream in the night, a fear among fears,
A naked runner lost in a storm of spears.
I have grown tired of rapture and love’s desire;
Love is a flaming heart, and its flames aspire
Till they cloud the soul in the smoke of a windy fire.
I would wash the dust of the world in a soft green flood;
Here between sea and sea, in the fairy wood,
I have found a delicate, wave-green solitude.
Here, in the fairy wood, between sea and sea,
I have heard the song of a fairy bird in a tree,
And the peace that is not in the world has flown to me.
Welcome, Anne. Well! Since I have now learned (thanks to you) that Arthur Symons (Cornish by birth) influenced Yeats, Eliot and Pound (all of who I read in that same college course and beyond) how is it that I do not know his work? Another failure of my incomplete education at work.
Thank you for this wonderful new (old) adventure to explore. Now trying to figure out which volumes of his work are the right ones to track down…
See you soon again, I hope, with more secrets. :)
Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.
Part Two: Nature
LVII
SOME keep the Sabbath going to church;
I keep it staying at home,
With a bobolink for a chorister,
And an orchard for a dome.
Some keep the Sabbath in surplice;
I just wear my wings,
And instead of tolling the bell for church,
Our little sexton sings.
God preaches,—a noted clergyman,—
And the sermon is never long;
So instead of getting to heaven at last,
I ’m going all along!
I’d never thought before how gardening and poetry fill the same need in my life. Thanks to all for the new works I need to seek out (Arthur Symons) and for the reminders of old favorites (Yeats).
Need a project for a Master Gardener class – maybe we’ll do a poetry read in someone’s lovely garden with herb teas and garden-related poems.
@Judy: Great idea to do the reading in the garden. Don’t forget to read Geoffrey Charlesworth’s wonderful one. :)
@Sara: A great piece of Emily, thank you. I am so glad now that I posted the Yeats poem since it’s eliciting so many other treasures. Wonderful. See you both soon.
The poem that rings in my head is below. The essence of a quiet life.
by Alexander Pope:
Solitude
Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air
In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fileds with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire;
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter, fire.
Blest, who can unconcernedly find
Hours, days, and years slide soft away
In health of body, peace of mind;
Quiet by day,
Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mixed, sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please
With meditation.
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die,
Steal from the world, and nota stone
Tell where I lie.
As a poet and memoirist myself, I can think of no better source for a book’s title. Is there anythign more perfect? Yes–finding out that one strugglign plant finally took hold and is coming out witha vengeance this spring.
My husband is a great lover of Yeats and in our 36 years of being together, I have been fortunate to hear Yeats’ words spoken in my beloved’s voice. I shall surprise him with this book. He is not a born again gardener, more of a being there to lend a hand kind of guy, but as retirement looms I hope this book will bring his soul closer to our earth.
Oh Margaret! How beautiful!!! I have not read this poem in so long, and I am moved
to tears. Thank you.
As if I couldn’t while away enough time just looking at your sublime garden words and images. Now such poetry to catch up on too!
Margaret, I just came across your post — “When You Are Old ” by Yeats–
A common love for Yeats–another reason I look forward to reading your book. Two of the old married people who visited your garden on Sunday used the first two stanzas in their wedding vows—30 years ago on Friday! He read Yeats and then I read “i am so glad and very” by eecummings. Had I known at the time where life was leading, I would have written “I promise to never stop wanting more plants” into my vows!
You all could not know this, but as you are typing in these incredibly lovely and inspiring personal tales (and bits of poetic inspiration of your own) I am much in need of it.
Big deadline this week–the final page proof must go back by Fedex tomorrow, yikes!–and the book (in bound galley form) is being “shown” starting today at the BEA (BookExpo America, a giant trade event all week). I feel as if my little secret baby is leaving the house for the first time, and I am (like a new mother) a WRECK.
It is many months before the actual book comes, the grown-up version with a proper hard cover and all the typos fixed, but this early-childhood stage is very important…because as we all know these days, it’s big business and fiercely competitive to earn a place in the “aisles” (physical or virtual) of the big booksellers and so on. So like I said…
I AM A WRECK. Very eerie to re-read it the one last time all the while knowing that the first strangers (in the trade) are about to read it, too. Oh my, oh my. So thank you, as ever and even more than ever, for your sweetnesses this week especially.
Margaret…what a beautiful inspiration to name your book. “Yeah” to you for going for your own dirt road…you are an inspiration to many. I just know your book is going to be a huge success, as you come from such an authentic and real place in life. Who wouldn’t want to know about your wonderful journey. No need to be frightened…your book will rock! Can’t wait to read it!
Welcome, Joan…what a nice neighbor you are! The surreal part is how long it takes between all the phases; I feel as if I am living in the future (or at least on some new kind of “book time” that I’m not used to). :) See you soon.
Good luck Margaret. I guess you are already there!
Too long away from Yeats, I am. I needed this nudge. And will be looking for this read.
Congratulations, Margaret.
Welcome, Molly, and thank you. Always glad to remind myself and others to read him. See you soon again, I hope.
oh my,
how very fortunate I feel this cold yet sunny afternoon in November .I just discovered your bees ,beans and poetry: how I named my book Margaret and there are so many people I want to give this to . I also love ,love poetry ever since a young man sent me poetry and signed his offerings John G. Whittier . thank you ,take good care. Theresa
You are welcome, Theresa, and nice to “meet” you. Do stop by to say hello again soon.
I am so glad that Katrina sent me your link … I cannot wait for your book to come out. You mention Yeats and Innisfree – for me it’s Wordsworth and Tintern Abbey … it comes back to me, unbidden, over and over again …
Welcome, Lindsey, who apparently comes from the lovely Katrina Kenison’s world. Now you are sending me back to my poetry anthologies for a read of Wordsworth, thank you. See you soon again, I hope.
Thank you so much for this wonderful chat. It reminded me of my favourite Yeats-poem:
The Cloths of Heaven
Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths
enwrought with golden and silver light,
the blue and the dim and the dark cloths
of night and light and the half light.
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you treat on my dreams.
Doesn’t this sound like an invitation in a garden full of white, skyblue and dark lilac flowers?
Maybe I just get carried away, but isn’t any garden a place to realise dreams?
(listen to Ian Bostridge singing this song).
Welcome, Hubert. I can only find a sample online of the Ian Bostridge version of this poem (in song), at Amazon. Will keep looking for a full version. Thank you. “I have spread my dreams under your feet” is one of the most moving lines of poetry ever written, indeed. Happy to be reminded of it.
another good one, I’ve got this up at the entrance to my home’s woods:
Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth
Which needs no school of long experience,
That the world is full of guilt and misery,
and hast seen enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares,
To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood and views the haunts of Nature.
The calm shade shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze
That makes the leaves dance, shall waft a balm to thy sick heart.
Thou wilt find nothing here of all that pained thee in the haunts of men
And made thee loathe thy life.
-William Cullen Bryant
was just reading your blog, and the many comments. congratulations. enjoyed what I read. I admire your courage to seek your path. best for the new year and your new book.
Thank you, Thomas, and welcome. Your kind words are much appreciated. I am off to visit your site now and hope that we will see each other again soon here and there.
I am looking so forward to reading your book.
When I read the title (on Katrina Kension’s blog), I knew it would be on my “must read” list. And the poem confirms it.
I have been on a ‘Rumi Kick’ lately and the title and poem remind me of the poem by Rumi entitled “Moving Water” where he writes:
“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river
moving in you, a joy. When actions come from another section, the feeling
disappears. Don’t let others lead you… Don’t
insist on going where you think you want to go. Ask the way to the spring. Your
living pieces will form a harmony. There is a moving palace that floats in the air
with balconies and clear water flowing through, infinity everywhere, yet contained
under a single tent.”
SImilarly, I have always loved “Light” by Hazrat Khan, where he writes:
“Every being has a definite vocation, and his vocation is the light which illuminates his life. The man who disregards his vocation is a lamp unlit. He who sincerely seeks his real purpose in life is himself sought by that purpose.”
It’s the idea that peace may be found in so many different places, but requires the following of one’s heart, soul, instinct., etc. Such a powerful idea and seemingly simple, but of course not simple at all to achieve….
I look forward to reading about your path to peace!
Best,
Meredith Resnick
http://www.labelsnotlimits.com
Tea and Yeats…how could the morning be any better?
Hi, Sharon — and how right you are! Perfect companions for a winter day in a comfy chair.
Oh, my gosh! We have been kindred spirits all these years and I have finally found you. I thought from your garden blog that we may have been but now that I read the poetry that has enriched my long life is also your poetry, I am delighted. Of course you win awards for what you do. Congratulations and know that we are truely sisters handed down from long lost poets. May blessings follow you always.
Welcome, Gayla. Yes, there are twins everywhere. :) Sweet of you to notice. Hope to see lots of you here.
Margaret,
Just received your book.On chapter four as of today. I wish I had the courage to move to a farmhouse!! I am in the fifth decade of my life and am trying to figure out how to make it the most meaningful and authentic for me. I am living vicariously through your story. I have thought of running away from my everyday life, a husband, two adult children and having the garden of my dreams. I admire you…
Donna
Oh, Donna, how sweet…but please, don’t tell your family it was my fault. :) Seriously, though, I know we all feel increasingly short on time for ourselves/our dreams. I certainly have missed some experiences by not having a family, but as you infer it did make this decision to move here simpler, somewhat. Thanks for your kind words!
Thanks so much for posting this! I have some Yeats on my shelves but haven’t read them yet…we did go to where he liked to “hang out” in Ireland, though, and saw his grave. I think I’ve finally reached a point where I can get “into” a poem, and let it draw me into its mood. Gorgeous poems!
Thank you Margret,you’re book is wonderful!!!!! K.
!!!!!!Kathy!!!!!! Thank you for those nice words.
Hello Margaret,
I attended the luncheon and lecture on Saturday for the Berkshire Botanical Garden and had a marvelous time!
You did a fantastic job and I thoroughly enjoyed every part of the event.
Your photographs (I’m assuming they are yours), are very, very good!
I didn’t buy the book, but will!!!
I am going to be VP (big whoop!) and therefore program person for the SImsbury (CT) Garden Club next season and wonder about your rates. You were an inspiration and I am so glad to see you re-inventing yourself. I have done that several times myself!!
Thanks, Sue