Missouri Wildflower Guide

There is the gale to urge behind
     And bruit our singing down,
And the shallow waters aflutter with wind
     From which to gather your gown.
What matter if we go clear to the west,
     And come not through dry-shod?
For wilding brooch shall wet your breast
     The rain-fresh goldenrod.


From "A Line-storm Song" by Robert Frost



Old-Field Goldenrod

(This page is incomplete.)


  • Habit