Now, a girl queen wearing a crown of gold
Did something like this, so the tale is told;
But no royal prince that the world has seen
Ever felt quite so proud as John, I ween,
As he clasped both her hands with new-born hope—
Hands all crinkley with water and soap.
Only the sunflowers, now looking on,
So—he kissed the maiden, O foolish John!
As he hastened out through the garden gate,
Ned Brown was just coming to learn his fate.
He was riding a handsome chestnut mare
But, somehow, our John didn’t seem to care.
Ned thought of the acres he’d won from John,
“Poor beggar,” he said, and rode slowly on;
John thought of all he had won from Ned,
“O you poor, poor beggar,” was what he said.
Why? Under the heavens smiling and blue,
Only John and the yellow sunflowers knew.
