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 thickest fruit;
My heart is 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 dias of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it with 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.
--Christina Rossetti
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