On Birthdays
My heart is like a singing bird, whose nest is in a watered 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.