The Garden of Love
I laid me down upon a bank,Where Love lay sleeping;I heard among the rushes dankWeeping, weeping.
Then I went to the heath and the wild,To the thistles and thorns of the waste;And they told me how they were beguiled,Driven out, and compelled to the chaste.
I went to the Garden of Love,And saw what I never had seen;A Chapel was built in the midst,Where I used to play on the green.
And the gates of this Chapel were shutAnd "Thou shalt not," writ over the door;So I turned to the Garden of LoveThat so many sweet flowers bore.
And I saw it was filled with graves,And tombstones where flowers should be;And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,And binding with briars my joys and desires.
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