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. 
