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In green old gardens, hidden away From sight of revel and sound of strife, Here I have leisure to breathe and move, And to do my work in a nobler way; To sing my songs, and to say my say; To Dream my dreams, and to love my love; To hold my faith, and to live my life. Making the most of its shadowy day.
Nothing is right and nothing is just; We sow in ashes and reap in dust.
Let me arise and open the gate, to breathe the wild warm air of the heath, And to let in Love, and to let out Hate, And anger at living and scorn of Fate, To let in Life, and to let out Death.
Here may I live what life I please, Married and buried out of sight, - Married to pleasure and buried to pain, - Hidden away amongst scenes like these, Under the fans of the chestnut trees; Living my child-life over again, With the further hope of a fallen delight, Blithe as the birds and wise as the bees.
