The buttercups, bright-eyed and bold,
Held up their chalices of gold
To catch the sunshine and the dew. [ Julia C. R. Dorr ]

When buttercups are blossoming,
The poets sang, 'tis best to wed:
So all for love we paired in spring -
Blanche and I - ere youth had sped. [ E. C. Stedman ]

And all the meadows, wide unrolled,
Were green and silver, green and gold.
Where buttercups and daisies spun
Their shining tissues in the sun. [ Julia C. R. Dorr ]

And O the buttercups! that field
O' the cloth of gold, where pennons swam -
Where France set up his lilied shield,
His oriflamb,
And Henry's lion-standard rolled:
What was it to their matchless sheen,
Their million million drops of gold
Among the green! [ Jean Ingelow ]

All will be gay when noontide wakes anew,
The buttercups, the little children's dower. [ Robert Browning ]

The buttercups across the field made sunshine rifts of splendor. [ Miss Mulock ]

With many readers brilliancy of style passes for affluence of thought; they mistake buttercups in the grass for immeasurable mines of gold under ground. [ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ]

Yellow japanned buttercups and star-disked dandelions - just as we see them lying in the grass, like sparks that have leaped from the kindling sun of summer. [ O. W. Holmes ]