He comes to a walled garden
My face, and saw the river-bed
With smooth bright gravel stones bespread, 120
And all around, the meadows wide
Were freshened by the lapping tide.
Calm and serene, and bright and sweet,
Was that spring morning, as my feet
Along the river bank I bent.
Light-hearted, heedless where I went.
And hearkening, as it rolled along.
The stream’s unending murmur-song.
II
The Lover here essays to draw
The wondrous counterfeits he saw130
Painted along the garden wall.
Before our eyes doth he recall,
Lifelike, the semblance, form and fame,
Of each, and tells thereof the name,
And first, with lively pen, portrays
Of Hate the direful works and ways.
Short space my feet had traversed ere
A garden spied I, great and fair,
The which a castled wall hemmed round.
And pictured thereupon I found140
Full many a figure rich and bright
Of colour, and how each one hight
Clear writ beneath it; now will I
To you declare from memory
The semblance and the name of each,
And somewhat of their natures teach.
