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