What is this poem talking about ?
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.
‐Christina Rossetti