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William Blake - The Garden Of Love

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 turn'd to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore,

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

Added: on July 19th, 2006 at 6:44 PM | Viewed: 11328 times | Comments (18)


The Garden Of Love - Comments and Information

Poet: William Blake
Poem: The Garden Of Love
Volume: Songs of Experience
Year: Published/Written in 1789
Poem of the Day on:
Mar 4 2004

Comment 18 of 18, added on January 24th, 2007 at 2:48 PM.

I am interested in the connection between the Garden (which I beleive could represent Eden and the original ideals of religion) and the imposing chapel. Could it be that Blake sees religion as a means to opposing its own values? I agree strongly with the suggestions that this poem attacks the way in which religion is practiced. To me, it seems Blake wants the reader to realise that religion has been contaminated by humanity.

Sarah from United Kingdom
Comment 17 of 18, added on July 25th, 2006 at 7:29 PM.

I simply dont understand where the idea of achieving a deeper relationship with god fits into this poem. The poem is obviously about religion restricting his joys and desires but it seems hard to accept that his joys and desires is meant to imply his relationship with god.

Benjamin from Australia
Comment 16 of 18, added on July 19th, 2006 at 6:44 PM.

Fantastic comments!
This is a disturbing poem on many levels. First, why a garden of love? Why not just a garden? Perhaps Blake wants the reader to understand that a garden, or a public green space, is many things to many people.
The person speaking had to have been gone in order for a chapel (or church) to be fully built at the site. So, I take it that this person was revisiting the area in which his memory is being assulted first by a building where once was an open space (Like Central Park or Mount Royale) that people and families enjoyed with abandon. As he adjusts to the first change, he notices yet more,disturbing changes. The assult to his senses overwhelm him: the locked gate, the negative posting, graves and tombstones, and priests doing their rounds!
This poem does not hold back! The changes are too blatant. Priests doing rounds behind locked gates--with tombstones as their companions! The living are locked out during the ritual. My. One could say the priests were guilty of "dead practices".
Historically, churches such as this one also locked out their poorer congregants by charging fees for seating.
So, not only was the Green space invaded, but further insult was heaped onto the working and lower class people. The church was busy locking out the people, putting on a show "walking their rounds" and enforcing rigid rules.
I like to think that "The Little Vagabond" should be read with this poem. Just the first line from this poem goes so well: "Dear Mother, dear Mother, the Church is cold".
If reading this poem with "The Ecchoing Green", note that there is no sound of the church bells, no happy sounds from nature...no sound at all.

dallas from United States

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