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FROM POETRY TO MUSIC IT IS HERE
The Garden of Love
by William Blake
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 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 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 & desires.
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