This world of imagination is the world of eternity. - William Blake

Children of the future Age Reading this indignant page, Know that in a former time Love! sweet Love! was thought a crime.

The Garden of Love

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 turn'd to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

What is Grand is necessarily obscure to Weak men. That which can be made Explicit to the idiot is not worth my care.