Come Into My Garden
COME into the garden, Maud,
  For the black bat, night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud,
  I am here at the gate alone;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,        
  And the musk of the rose is blown.
(Alfred Lord Tennyson)

Texture by osolev: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/13796443@N05/">www.flickr.com/photos/13796443@N05/</a>
texture garden come committeeofartists deugkyr