CALIFORNIA POPPIES
Somewhere in childhood's golden fields
Gay poppies with the sunbeams blend,
Maturer fancy scarce reveals
As wandering through their acre beds,
The sunbeams shining on their heads,
I glean my golden sheaf.
No Ruth a richer sheaf could glean,
Nor Ceres, though the harvest's queen,
I pass their trophies by;
And fill my hands with dazzling showers
Of silken petaled trembling flowers
And think they reasoned well
Who for our State's bright emblem chose
The flower that scorns no dreary spot
But brightens like a sunny thought
Each gray fence corner where it grows,
And mingling with the sunshine fills
Bright valleys nestling in their hills,
Or stars the ocean's shore;
And to our proud State's farthest bound
The little wanderers are found
Like glints of golden ore,
Set in their native ground.
Artists perpetuate its flaming hues,
Writers immortalize it in your muse,
To thee, oh golden State, it shall belong
The chosen favorite of thy scene and song!
Gay poppies with the sunbeams blend,
Maturer fancy scarce reveals
As wandering through their acre beds,
The sunbeams shining on their heads,
I glean my golden sheaf.
No Ruth a richer sheaf could glean,
Nor Ceres, though the harvest's queen,
I pass their trophies by;
And fill my hands with dazzling showers
Of silken petaled trembling flowers
And think they reasoned well
Who for our State's bright emblem chose
The flower that scorns no dreary spot
But brightens like a sunny thought
Each gray fence corner where it grows,
And mingling with the sunshine fills
Bright valleys nestling in their hills,
Or stars the ocean's shore;
And to our proud State's farthest bound
The little wanderers are found
Like glints of golden ore,
Set in their native ground.
Artists perpetuate its flaming hues,
Writers immortalize it in your muse,
To thee, oh golden State, it shall belong
The chosen favorite of thy scene and song!
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