Sunday, April 13, 2014

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

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