William Wordsworth - A Garden in Her Face

There is a garden in her face, Where roses and white lilies grow; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all secret pleasures go.

A viewing cherry, in the bloom, And the heavenly apple, placed there; The fruit of love, as now, in gloom, And if one were do better care.

Before the dawn with lighted glow, The thought does signify a move; And think all day we feel and show, But see the night we wish does prove.