
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 turned to the Garden of Love
 That 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.