STUDDING the grass with golden sheen, Like starlet fallen on the green, A blossom prized by none, Unheeded or passed by with scorn, Gleam from the shadow of the thorn, An image of the sun. And thus despised it droopeth not, But, heedless of its lowly lot, Still turns its golden eye Upwards, upwards to the sun, Ceasing not till evening dun Drives him from the sky. The yellow sunbeams do not know That for their love it is too low, The sunbeams kiss it bright, And so through the long summer days It lifts on high its happy gaze, Loved by its well-loved light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BOROUGH: LETTER 22. POOR OF THE BOROUGH. PETER GRIMES by GEORGE CRABBE THE INVITATION by GEORGE HERBERT ANOTHER GRACE FOR A CHILD by ROBERT HERRICK THE MAHOGANY TREE by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY HYMN FOR ALL SAINTS DAY IN THE MORNING by HENRY ALFORD |