Poem and song for these times in particular

The news from all around is so very upsetting and hugely anxiety provoking. It seems the "opening up" and the going back to school, maybe particularly colleges with their large, mask-less parties, are bringing new cases just when we had begun to relax because the cases had gotten fewer. And the tourists. If you live in a tourist area, you know. I can't understand why people feel they have to travel now. And these aren't poor people who are stuck in terrible city conditions. Tom saw a Tesla in our little Co-op parking lot and he looked up the price, and mon dieu, the car's base price is 80 thou. Our local lawyers are crazy busy because of people buying houses to get away from the cities and the virus. Anyhow, it's enough to drive one mad so here is a little respite. 

If we can't actually be there, let us have such a place in our hearts and imaginations when we are "on the roadway, or the pavements grey". 

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.