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 days 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 fleur-de-lys,
because the birthday of my life is come, my love is come to me.
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