[00:16.30]There’s an ancient, ancient garden
[00:18.15]That I see sometimes in dreams
[00:22.09]Where the very Maytime sunlight
[00:23.77]Plays and glows with spectral gleams;
[00:27.42]Where the gaudy-tinted blossoms seem to wither into grey
[00:31.61]And the crumbling walls and pillars
[00:33.95]Waken thoughts of yesterday
[00:36.76]There are vines in nooks and crannies
[00:39.57]And there’s moss about the pool
[00:41.92]And the tangled ****y thicket
[00:44.03]Chokes the arbour dark and cool
[00:48.52]In the silent sunken pathways
[00:50.41]Springs an herbage sparse and spare
[00:53.55]Where the musty scent of dead things
[00:55.77]Dulls the fragrance of the air
[01:00.31]There is not a living creature in the lonely space around
[01:05.32]And the hedge-encompass’d quiet never echoes to a sound
[01:10.41]As I walk, and wait, and listen, I will often seek to find
[01:16.46]When it was I knew that garden in an age long left behind;
[01:23.96]I will oft conjure a vision of a day that is no more
[01:28.26]As I gaze upon the grey, grey scenes I feel I knew before
[01:34.90]Then a sadness settles o’er me
[01:38.94]And a tremor seems to start
[01:42.93]For I know the flow’rs are shrivell’d hopes—
[01:48.62]The garden is my heart!