I Laid Me Down Upon A Bank, Where Love Lay Sleeping; I Heard Among The Rushes Dank Weeping, Weeping. Then I Went To The Heath And The Wild, To The Thistles And Thorns Of The Waste; And They Told Me How They Were Beguiled, Driven Out, And Compelled To The Chaste. 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.