A Birthday Song

The rose-time and the roses
Call to me, dove of mine;
I hear the bird-song closes
Ring out in the sunshine;
In all the wood-reposes
There runs a magic wine

Of music all divine.
All things have scent and singing:
The happy earth is ringing
With praise of love and June;
Have I alone no tune,
No sound of music-making

To greet my love's awaking,
This golden summer noon?
ii.
Ah love! my roses linger
For sunshine of thine eyes,
For Love, the music bringer,

My linnets wait to rise;
All dumb are birds and singer:
The song in kisses dies
And sound of happy sighs.
What need of songs and singing,
When love for us is ringing

Bells of enchanted gold?
Dear, whilst my arms enfold
My love, our kisses fashion
Tunes of more perfect passion
Than verses new or old.