Calderon.    

Bryant.    

	Sunflowers by the sides of brooks,
	Turn’d to the sun.

Moore.    

	And here the sunflower of the spring
	Burns bright in morning’s beam.

Ebenezer Elliott.    

	As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets,
	The same look which she turn’d when he rose.

Moore.    

	The lofty follower of the sun,
	Sad when he sets, shuts up her yellow leaves,
	Drooping all night; and when he warm returns,
	Points her enamor’d bosom to his ray.

Thomson.    

	With zealous step he climbs the upland lawn,
	And bows in homage to the rising dawn;
	Imbibes with eagle eye the golden ray,
	And watches, as it moves, the orb of day.

Erasmus Darwin.    

	Ah, sunflower, weary of time,
	Who countest the steps of the sun,
	Seeking after that sweet golden clime
	Where the traveller’s journey is done.

William Blake.    

	Eagle of flowers! I see thee stand,
	And on the sun’s noon-glory gaze;
	With eye like his, thy lids expand,
	And fringe their disk with golden rays;
	Though fixed on earth, in darkness rooted there,
	Light is thy element, thy dwelling air,
	Thy prospect heaven.

James Montgomery.