Hard not to celebrate a day, my Sweet’.
Hard just to wish ye well and say no more.
But trust your judgment, yea, without a deep
Word said about the day ye rue to core.
T’is fine to wish ye well, is not, my dear?
What risk is this to feeling grand today?
I’ll make no giant pronouncement, but a mere
“I love you, Sweet’, my dear, today I say.
T’is hard for me to say no more indeed.
I like to celebrate ye birth, ye day.
But I am not a slender, passive reed.
I can wish well, I seek enough to say.
Thank ye for celebrating birthday mine.
I like my day, and ye have been so kind.