O dandelion, rich and haughty, King of village flowers! Each day is coronation time, You have no humble hours. I like to see you bring a troop To beat the blue-grass spears, To scorn the lawn-mower that would be Like fate's triumphant shears. Your yellow heads are cut away, It seems your reign is o'er. By noon you raise a sea of stars More golden than before. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MAN WITH THE HOE'; A REPLY by JOHN VANCE CHENEY AT A LUNAR ECLIPSE by THOMAS HARDY CONCLUDING VERSES, AFTER RETURNING HOME FROM AN AUTUMNAL MORNING WALK by BERNARD BARTON THE GRAVE-YARD by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD DUTY by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING IRREPARABLENESS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |