And began to push up from his tough little roots.
Kept pushing, and cheerful and hopeful, he pushed,
And he came to the surface, close by an old bush,
With the frost hardly gone, and the ground hardly mellow,
Here he is on the top now, the brave little fellow.
The first dandelion! Well may we delight
And call all the children to see the glad sight,
For of all the brave prospects of hope and of spring,
The golden-crowned dandelion surely is king.
—Selected and slightly adapted