Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: The First Dandelion
Simple and fresh and fair from winter’s close emerging,
As if no artifice of fashion, business, politics, had ever been,
Forth from its sunny nook of shelter’d grass—innocent, golden, calm as
the dawn,
The spring’s first dandelion shows its trustful face.
Autres oeuvres par Walt Whitman...
