Sadly enough, my young friends, it is a characteristic of our age that if people want any gods at all, they want them to be gods who do not demand much, comfortable gods, smooth gods who not only don't rock the boat but don't even row it, gods who pat us on the head, make us giggle, then tell us to run along and pick marigolds.
Board the cows! We've come to enslave your marigolds.
Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side.
Fair is the marigold, for pottage meet.
Open afresh your rounds of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds.