Poem by Vachel Lindsay

The Dandelion

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.

1. The Merciful Hand
2. To Gloriana
3. Yet Gentle Will the Griffin Be
4. To Buddha
5. The Black Hawk War of the Artists

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