Poem to a Brunette Nymph

At last, the garden greenwood delights my soul, 

A merry nymph has come to make me whole. 

She dances to delight my eyes, 

and never speaks flattering lies. 

The trees know no prettier sight, 

Her majesty shines most at midnight. 

I long to hear her sing a new song, 

For her, I dream all day long. 

For as gorgeous as her chestnut curls, 

Her voice is as rare as green pearls. 

Once, in Athens, I sat under a holm oak, 

And of her lips, I wished mine to soak. 

My nymph then approached me and said, 

'''Admirer that you be, you have much to read. 

It is written that love is not easily won.' 

End now what you have begun.''

''I, however, wished to romance her, 

and gazed upon her as I answered, 

''You are a brunette beauty who wounds me, 

and delights my soul with eternal felicity. 

I cannot tell you of what battles I will win, 

Nor of the places that I have been. 

Know, though, that you are my goddess, 

And I will protect you against all darkness. 

In my years of wisdom and learning, 

And of much spiritual discerning, 

I read that love is not won quickly, 

Nor is it given so easily. 

My nymph, standing under the oak tree, 

then stared long at the rising sea, 

I, however, spoke to her still, 

and said all that I feel, 

''Lady, love that you be, 

Find time still to be with me.'' 

''Sir, love is difficult to attain.'' 

She returned boldly, as if I were insane. 

''Certainly, difficult, yes,'' I agreed, 

''Though Eros makes my heart bleed.'' 

We sat together long on this sunny day, 

It was the lusty month of May. 

I then tilted forward as we shared a kiss, 

There had never been a moment like this. 

''Your pursuit is most bold,'' she praised, 

''And leaves me ever amazed.''

''Your heart,'' I returned with satisfaction, 

''Is precious and calls me to action. 

It is good that you challenged my pleas, 

for no woman is to make courtship an ease.'' 

Smiling, my nymph realized then, 

during our time in this open glen, 

that I truly loved her truly. 

Just as she wanted to make me merry. 

Of this tale, let it be forever known, 

that I wed this nymph not long ago, 

and let these words to all be shown, 

That love is a prize, it is written so.