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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PICCIOLA by ROBERT HENRY NEWELL TEARS by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE STILL FALLS THE RAIN; THE RAIDS, 1940. NIGHT AND DAWN by EDITH SITWELL |