russell] THE GOLDEXROD 239 



withered and drooping look but not so the goldenrod. It would 

 stand there proudly trying to show its golden plumes and produce a 

 fresh appearance — although the bright yellow was greatly dimmed 

 by many coats of dust from the highway near by. It would never 

 give in, but would wait patiently until a friendly breeze or a wel- 

 come shower should come to its rescue and remove the dusty warm 

 burden from its countenance. To see the change in these flowers 

 after a rain, with their newly awakened bloom teaches one' the 

 lesson that to remain patient and to put on the best appearance 

 possible under unpleasant conditions will in time bring good results. 



The literature on the goldenrod is very abundant. It offers a 

 very good theme for poets, especially the nature loving poets and 

 we have many interesting and pleasing lines about it in our nature 

 books today. 



In "Little Folks Lyrics" Sherman speaks of the autumn as being 

 the evening of the year which comes just before the winter's night. 

 He tells of the goldenrod which lights up the roadsides in the even- 

 ing just as do street lights and greets the butterflies and bees as they 

 are returning from distant meadows. Finally the frost comes with 

 darkness and puts the torches out. The proud manner of this 

 flower is illustrated in some lines written by H. H. Jackson : 



Four oak leaves vivid green, 



Hung low among the ferns, and parted wide, 



While purple aster stars, close side by side, 



Like faces peered between. 



Like maiden faces set 



In vine-wreathed window, waiting shy and glad. 



For joys whose dim, mysterious promise had 



But promise been, as yet. 



And, like proud lovers bent, 



In regal courtesy, as kings might woo, 



Tall Goldenrods, bareheaded in the dew, 



Above the Asteis leant. 



Ah, me! Lands will be lit 



With every autumn's blaze of Goldenrod, 



And purple Asters everywhere will nod 



And bend and wave and flit. 



There are many other fine poems, attractively written but I will 

 close with just one more which gives a fine description of a Septem- 

 ber day. It was written by Mary Clemmer Ames : 



"I am alone with nature. The autumn dandelion 



With the soft September day; Beside the roadwav burns; 



The^ lifting hills above me, Above the lichened boulders 



With goldenrod are gay. Quiver the plumed ferns. 



Across the fields of ether The cream-white silk of the milkweed 



Flit butterflies at play ; Floats from its sea-green t. od; 



And cones of garnet sumac Frcm out the mossv rock-seams 



Glow down the country way." Flashes the goldenrod. 



