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.