The Garden of Love

I went to the Garden of Love

And saw what I had never seen:

A chapel was built in the midst, 

Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this chapel were shut,

And Thou shalt not. writ over the door;

So I turn’d to the Garden of Love,

That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,

And tomb-stones where flowers should be:

And priests in black gowns, were

Walking their rounds

And binding with briars, my joys

and desires.

From Songs of Experience

~William Blake