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 fuller 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 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. 



VIOLET FANE. 



