Of what avail the tardy showers,
To the famished summer flowers?
All in vain the rain-drops cry,
Dead things never make reply.
Life’s belated cup of bliss,
Woo the weary lips to kiss,
When the singing is a sigh,
Pulses quivering, to die.
Public-domain source text
Posthumous
by Georgia Douglas Johnson
From Standard Ebooks · standardebooks/georgia-douglas-johnson_poetry
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