GOLDEN ROD.




DEAR shadowed sunshine!


Goldened-crowned and fair,


By dusty roadside,


Or in shaded lanes,


You lift your blossoms everywhere.


 


Who does not love you,


Graceful, golden spear?


Like sunshine shadowed


By a passing cloud—


Who would not miss your presence here?


 


You ask so little


And repay so much


Give ever of your


Best, whate'er your place


In life how many lives such?


 


The purple aster


Follows where you know


Perhaps she leads her


Dainty dress is just


The color that your blossom needs.


 


To show their beauty


Clearer. As the gold


Of stars gleams brighter


When across the heaven


Dark azure curtains are unrolled.


 


 


 


Pick's Illustrated Magazine.