Come out of the rose garden.

I never promised you a rose garden

A single rose can be my garden... a single friend, my world.

I never promised you a rose garden. I never promised you perfect justice.

I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.

I know a little garden close / Set thick with lily and red rose, / Where I would wander if I might / From dewy dawn to dewy night. / And have one with me wandering.