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 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 daïs 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. "A Birthday" by Christina Rossetti reprinted from Macmillan's Magazine (April 1861). |
Orange Coffee Cup courtesy ~ copyright Gary Priester |
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
A BIRTHDAY by: Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)