Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers
Plucked in the garden, all the summer through
And winter, and it seemed as if they grew
In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers
So, in the like name of that love of ours
Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too
And which on warm and cold days I withdrew
From my heart's ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers
Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue
And wait thy weeding; yet here's eglantine
Here's ivy! -- take them, as I used to do
Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine
Instruct thine eyes to keep their colours true
And tell thy soul, their roots are left in mine