These sweet fields

I rest my wearied life in these sweet fields 
Reflecting every smile in natures face 
& much of joy this grass— These hedges yields 
Not found in citys where crowds daily trace 
Heart pleasures there hath no abideing place 
The star gemmed early morn the silent even 
Hath pleasures that our broken hopes deface 
To love too well leaves nought to be forgiven 
The Gates of Eden is the bounds of heaven

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