English Lyrics, Tenth Set

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 purple sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
  Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a dais of purple and gold;
  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 fleur-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
  Is come, my love, is come to me.

Gone were but the winter cold,
And gone were but the snow,
I could sleep in the wild woods
Where primroses, primroses blow.

Cold's the snow at my head,
And cold at my feet;
And the finger of death's at my e'en,
Closing them to sleep.

Let none tell my father,
Or my mother so dear;
I'll meet them both in Heaven
At the spring of the year.

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I hear the feet below
In the dark street;
They hurry and shuffle by,
And go, on errands bitter or sweet,
Whither I cannot know.
A bird troubles the night
From the green plane
And in my breast again
Vague memories of delight
Arise from the spirit's night,
And pass into it again
And the hurrying restless feet
Below
On errands I cannot know,
Like a great tide ebb and flow.

One silent night of late,
When every creature rested,
Came one unto my gate,
And knocking, me molested.

Who's that, said I, beats there,
And troubles thus the sleepy?
Cast off; said he, all fear,
And let not locks thus keep ye.

For I a boy am, who
By moonless nights have swerved;
And all with showers wet through,
And e'en with cold half starved.

I pitiful arose,
And soon a taper lighted;
And did myself disclose
Unto the lad benighted.

I saw he had a bow,
And wings too, which did shiver;
And looking down below,
I spied he had a quiver.

I to my chimney's shine
Brought him, as Love professes,
And chafed his hands with mine,
And dried his dropping tresses.

But when he felt him warm'd,
Let's try this bow of ours
And string, if they be harm'd,
Said he, with these late showers.

Forthwith his bow he bent,
And wedded string and arrow,
And struck me, that it went
Quite through my heart and marrow

Then laughing loud, he flew
Away, and thus said flying,
Adieu, mine host, adieu,
I'll leave thy heart a-dying.