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