"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 ‘Thou shalt not’ writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.