The Farmer And The Starry Nymph Poem by Terry Dawson

She is the soul of the thunder storm that shakes the inky dark
And stirs the heart of farmer Giles and lights in him a spark

His soul is the soul of the mountain range and the valleys that divide
And he woos the heart of the sweetest maid, to win her to his side.

Hers is the spirit of the star-filled night and hers are the heavenly lights
That awe the hearts of mortal men who marvel at their sights.

He is the Lord of the fertile ground which he works to earn a crust
And he craves the hand of the sweetest maid and longs to earn her trust.

She is the queen of the forest glade, of the pond and the lily pad.
And her sweet self brings happiness to a world that had been sad.

And his heart bursts like the buds of spring on a sunny springtime day
That the words that she speaks would seem to say: perhaps, maybe, I may!