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 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.
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