Gramercy Park    For W. P.    The little park was filled with peace,The walks were carpeted with snow, But every iron gate was locked.Lest if we entered, peace would go.    We circled it a dozen times,The wind was blowing from the sea, I only felt your restless eyesWhose love was like a cloak for me.    Oh heavy gates that fate has lockedTo bar the joy we may not win, Peace would go out forevermoreIf we should dare to enter in