I
hear it in the deep heart's core.
William Butler Yeats
I was an English major in college,
but failed to thrive as such.
When it came to the scholarly analysis of
literary texts, I never
seemed to “get it.” I was, however, immensely
affected by some
of the material we studied, such as the poem shown above. No
matter that my professor regarded Lake
Isle of Innisfree as an
interesting example of Yeats’ immature work, but
scarcely worth
serious scholarly attention.
It got serious attention from me,
and still does, because when I
read it I am once again standing on the shore
of North hero Island
with my grandson, discussing the merits of voluntary
fasting;
I am once again on that same lake, fishing in a
boat with my sons
when they were younger; or with my father,
when I myself was young.
Speaking of my father, it so
happens that he died on this day,
August 21, in 1981. I was with him, and few
moments before
he died, he roused himself from a deep coma and cried out,
“Jonathan!
The boatman!” And now, when I read of “…lake water
lapping with low sounds by
the shore,” I am once again in a boat
with him, and he s rowing while my
sister and I fish, lines trailing
out behind.
“I hear it in the deep heart’s
core.”
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1 comment:
I like and have never before heard the term "bee-loud glade". But it instantly springs a picture in my mind; it is a very descriptive word. I like it!
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