The Lover's Star

The heather grows on the heath,
Soft and sweet in the heat, 
And the sky, blue-bell bright, covers the trees,
And the sandy ground underfoot.
I fell in love on the heath, 
I fell in love with the stars, 
Tracing my finger from each,
And laughing in contentedness.
I whispered my heart to the night light,
And it whispered back in turn, 
And tickled my ear and covered my sight
As the moon broke waves upon the water. 
The trees raised their roots to the sky-sea,
And the shooting-ships sailed far beyond me,
Off to fight the city light, or join another’s glow,
And the breath of the soil began to slow. 
So I pulled my head up and began to walk
Down to the lakeside and the beach and the woods,
And down to the sites where the poets once stood, 
To seek the company of my love.
As I arrived at the waters edge, 
I found nothing but the sound of sighs,
And my weary reflection in the rippling glass,
But my love was nowhere to be seen.
I searched between the waves,
I searched amongst the treetops,
I clambered through the pebbles
And through the tall grass and the sage. 
Yet my love was nowhere to be found!
So I sat on the shoreline, and plucked up a feather,
And carved out a pen and made ink from the heather.
I wrote to my love, and promised to wait
There by the shoreline till my love would fly back,
And I promised to love her in the bashful moonlight,
And I promised to love her till the sun up rose, bright. 
I fell in love on the heath, 
I fell in love with the stars, 
Tracing my finger from each,
And laughing in contentedness.