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Dandelion by Vachel Lindsay


by Vachel Lindsay

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.