THE GARDEN OF LOVE

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I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I 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 bruises, my joys & desires.

From ~songs of experience

William Blake

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