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 turned to the Garden of Love That so many sweet flowers bore.
And I saw it was filled with graves, And tombstones where flowers should be; And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds, And binding with briars my joys and desires.
You enter the front garden of a manor on a river. The stone fence is mostly eroded, making the iron wrought gate entirely ineffective. Vines bearing fruit creep along the house, especially above the door, and there are plenty of trees and bushes on the property. Out back is the real garden.
On the left side is a woman sitting on a bench under a tree, from which a swing hangs. On the right, a rowboat lays on shore. It's summer here, easy to tell by the heat and scent in the air, the parched grass, the humming of cicadas.
If you came through the Hell Gate, it remains unsealed behind you. If you came any other way, then there is no gate. The path leading away from the house only stretches out into empty hills.
MANOR
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 turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.
And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.
You enter the front garden of a manor on a river. The stone fence is mostly eroded, making the iron wrought gate entirely ineffective. Vines bearing fruit creep along the house, especially above the door, and there are plenty of trees and bushes on the property. Out back is the real garden.
On the left side is a woman sitting on a bench under a tree, from which a swing hangs. On the right, a rowboat lays on shore. It's summer here, easy to tell by the heat and scent in the air, the parched grass, the humming of cicadas.
If you came through the Hell Gate, it remains unsealed behind you. If you came any other way, then there is no gate. The path leading away from the house only stretches out into empty hills.