He has about him a faint muskiness
Not the musky aroma distilled
With floral oils,
But the fragrance of furrowed earth
Mingled with heady barley and damp alfalfa.
I know he is there
Even before the sight of him:
His power, his longing and tenderness
And scent of the fields
Call out in a clear, silent song.

Florence Weber Mann

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/silent-song/