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A Birthday |
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My heart is like a singing
bird |
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Whose nest is in a watered
shoot; |
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My heart is like an apple
tree |
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Whose boughs are bent with
thickset fruit; |
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My heart is like a rainbow
shell |
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| That paddles in a halcyon
sea; |
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| My heart is gladder than all
these |
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| Because my love is come to
me. |
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| Raise me a dais of silk and
down; |
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| Hang it with vair and purple
dyes; |
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Carve it in doves, and
pomegranates, |
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And peacocks with a hundred
eyes; |
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Work it in gold and silver
grapes, |
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In leaves, and silver
fleurs-de-lys; |
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Because the birthday of my
life |
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Is come, my love is come to
me. |
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