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 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.