The Garden Of Love
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 garden
And the gates of the chapel were shut
And “Thou shalt not” write over the door
So I turned 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 the priest in black gowns were walking their rounds
And binding with briars my joys and desires
William Blake
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