DANDELION.
Reading edition
A dandelion in a meadow grew Among the waving grass and cowslips yellow; Dining on sunshine, breakfasting on dew, He was a right contented little fellow. Each morn his golden head he lifted straight, To catch the first sweet breath of coming day; Each evening closed his sleepy eyes, to wait Until the long, cool night had passed away. One afternoon, in sad, unquiet mood, I paused beside this tiny, bright-faced flower, And begged that he would tell me, if he could, The secret of his joy through sun and shower. He looked at me with open eyes, and said: “I know the sun is somewhere shining clear, And when I cannot see him overhead, I try to be a little sun, right here!”
