| Poems by Women |
GOLDENROD
When the wayside tangles blaze
In the low September
sun,
When the flowers of Summer days
Droop and wither, one by
one,
Reaching up through bush and brier,
Sumptuous brow and heart of
fire,
Flaunting high its wind-rocked plume,
Brave with wealth of native
bloom, -
Goldenrod!
When the meadow, lately shorn,
Parched and languid, swoons with
pain,
When her life-blood, night and morn,
Shrinks in every throbbing
vein,
Round her fallen, tarnished urn
Leaping watch-fires brighter
burn;
Royal arch o'er Autumn's gate,
Bending low with lustrous weight,
-
Goldenrod!
In the pasture's rude embrace,
All o'errun with tangled vines,
Where
the thistle claims its place,
And the straggling hedge confines,
Bearing
still the sweet impress
Of unfettered loveliness,
In the field and by the
wall,
Binding, clasping, crowning all, -
Goldenrod!
Nature lies disheveled pale,
With her feverish lips apart, -
Day by day
the pulses fail,
Nearer to her bounding heart;
Yet that slackened grasp
doth hold
Store of pure and genuine gold;
Quick thou comest, strong and
free,
Type of all the wealth to be, -
Goldenrod!
From: Stevenson, Burton Egbert.
The Home Book of Verse.
This poet:
[Author index]
This collection assembled by Jone Johnson Lewis.
Collection © 1999-2002 Jone Johnson Lewis.
Citing poems from these pages:
| Author. "Poem Title." Women's History: Poems by Women. Jone Johnson Lewis, editor. URL: (date of logon) |
