Then you grew bold and talked to me across the fence, offering to me your toys and flowers and shells.
You coaxed me away from my task, you tempted me into the land of mysteries at the weedy corner of some garden in the midday loneliness.
Then you told me stories of things that happened in an eternal past, which the present ever longs to meet, rescued from its prison of moments.
Rabindranath Tagore
