This Lime-Tree Bower My Prison

Ney, I’ll receive thee back to me: And henceforth I’ll never wander more, Mindful of the joy God has in all the living forms To fruit and flower.

I shall come back, And in this bower— Once more, a prisoner——to thy lip, And in the quietude of light, Like a lost child in forest. … (excerpt)

• Samuel Taylor Coleridge