An allegory of a garden. Someone — “He,” never named — has dried the speaker’s inside; the “beautiful garden of happiness” is overgrown with tall, evil grass; only the soul, “dried up like the mind, but alive,” is left. The beloved is the spring: “your water will be healing.” Water it generously and the weeds will die, orchards bloom, “spring for ever and ever” set fruit — and the harvest will be hers alone. The poem’s faith is simple and stated plainly: kindness leaves a trace. The garden metaphor gives inner exhaustion a physical landscape. Happiness once cultivated has become neglected ground, and the speaker is both inhabitant and witness of the damage. The remaining thirsty soul suggests that desolation is not emptiness: desire survives precisely because something still asks to be restored.