GOLDEN-ROD
BESHREW the coinëd gold!—and so take heed,
Nor palter with the dross to form a god—
Behold, the dandelion gilds the clod,
The buttercup adorns the dewy mead!
Doth it not bring contentment to thy greed?—
Then satiate thine avarice: the sod
Gleams with illimitable golden-rod,—
And of a surety thou art rich indeed!
The burnished banner of the summer's prime
Waves happy mortals to a golden feast
(The largess rare of yon high Eastern priest!)
Unstained by goaded greed, or shame, or crime.
Oh, glorious yellow golden-rod!—sublime
Free-offering to the greatest and the least.