TO THE DANDELION.
Your frock is torn and ragged, Your locks are all awry, And yet I love you, dandelion, I know not why. You bloom not in the gardens, Where you would surely cheer; But hide among the grasses, I wonder—is it fear? ' Your lovely, gleaming blossom Graces naught but common lane; Your praise is sung by lowing herd, Or in the bees’ refrain. You spend your life in idleness, Your playmates, butterflies, While at the busy world beside, You gase in great surprise.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/THD19331028.2.75
Bibliographic details
Timaru Herald, Volume CXXXVII, Issue 19632, 28 October 1933, Page 13
Word Count
85TO THE DANDELION. Timaru Herald, Volume CXXXVII, Issue 19632, 28 October 1933, Page 13
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