My birthday

My is like singing canary bird whose net is in a water'd shoot; My heart is like a apple-tree whose boughs are bet with thick-set fruit; My heart is like a rain shell that paddles in a halcyon sea; My heart is gladder than all these, because my love come to me. raise me a dais of silk a down; hang it with vair and purpl dyes; carve it in doves and pomegranates, A peacocks with a hundred eyes; work it in gold or silver grapes; In leaves and silver fleurs-de-ys; Because the birthday of my life is come, my love is come to me.