I laid me down upon a bank,
Where Love lay sleeping;
I heard among the rushes dank
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.
Books by William Blake:
- William Blake: The Complete Illuminated Books
- The Complete Poetry & Prose of William Blake
- Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience