Goldenrods

"Still the Goldenrod of the roadside clod Is of all, the best!"

"I lie amid the Goldenrod, I love to see it lean and nod; I love to feel the grassy sod Whose kindly breast will hold me last, Whose patient arms will fold me fast!— Fold me from sunshine and from song, Fold me from sorrow and from wrong: Through gleaming gates of Goldenrod I'll pass into the rest of God."

"Nature lies disheveled, pale, With her feverish lips apart,— Day by day the pulses fail, Nearer to her bounding heart; Yet that slackened grasp doth hold Store of pure and genuine gold; Quick thou comest, strong and free, Type of all the wealth to be,— Goldenrod!"

"I know the lands are lit With all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod."

"Because its myriad glimmering plumes Like a great army's stir and wave; Because its golden billows blooms, The poor man's barren walks to lave: Because its sun-shaped blossoms show How souls receive the light of God, And unto earth give back that glow— I thank him for the Goldenrod."

"Welcome, dear Goldenrod, once more, Thou mimic, flowering elm! I always think that Summer's store Hangs from thy laden stem."

"And in the evening, everywhere Along the roadside, up and down, I see the golden torches flare Like lighted street-lamps in the town."

"The hollows are heavy and dank With the steam of the Goldenrods."

"Graceful, tossing plume of glowing gold, Waving lonely on the rocky ledge; Leaning seaward, lovely to behold, Clinging to the high cliff's ragged edge."