Author Georgia Douglas Johnson The dew is on the grasses, dear,—The blush is on the rose,And swift across our dial-youth,—A shifting shadow goes.The primrose moments, lush with bliss,—Exhale and fade away,Life may renew the Autumn time,—But nevermore the May! Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 4.4 (8 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments