MY heart is like a singing bird   Whose nest is in a water'd shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree   Whose boughs are bent with thick-set 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 daïs 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.