In Green Old Gardens

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.

In green old gardens, hidden away

From sight of revel and sound of strife, -

Here have I 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.