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.