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Poem by Walt Whitman Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 12. The First Dandelion Simple and fresh and fair from winter's close emerging, As if no artifice of fashion, business, politics, had ever been, Forth from its sunny nook of shelter'd grass—innocent, golden, calm as the dawn, The spring's first dandelion shows its trustful face. Walt Whitman Walt Whitman's other poems:
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