But where your birthday brightens heaven
⁠No need has earth, God knows,
Of light or warmth to melt or leaven
⁠The frost or fog that glows
With sevenfold heavenly lights of seven
⁠Sweet springs that cleave the snows.

Could love make worthy music of you,
⁠And match my Master's powers,
Had even my love less heart to love you,
⁠A better song were ours;
With all the rhymes like stars above you,
⁠And all the words like flowers.

September 30, 1880.