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Birthday of My Life

August 11, 2010

“What a week.”

I am very British in my understatement. See how British?

I will not get into the frustrations of the week, here, today.

What I will do is share a dreamy thing by Christina Rossetti, a Victorian poet.

I love the imagery of beauty and plenty: the words alone are like a bough bent with thickset fruit and that is one reason we chose this for a reading at our wedding. However, it’s the sentiment at the end that I was reminded of the last few days, as my husband and I have slogged through a truly difficult time together, with a lot less yelling and sulking and blaming and a lot of more hugging and cheering on and appreciation than I would have expected.

A Birthday

by: Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)

    • Y 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.

3 Comments leave one →
  1. Jan Rider Newman permalink
    August 11, 2010 7:03 pm

    This is sooooo sweet! The poem and the post.

  2. Julia permalink
    August 12, 2010 11:21 am


  3. August 13, 2010 2:04 pm

    Thank you for posting that. It is helping me recover from a very unpleasant car trip with my three beastly children.

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