![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikisource/en/thumb/d/d2/Poems_by_Christina_Rossetti_with_illustrations_by_Florence_Harrison_-_page_092.png/220px-Poems_by_Christina_Rossetti_with_illustrations_by_Florence_Harrison_-_page_092.png)
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 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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