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Georgia Douglas Johnson
1880-1966
"Autumn"
Believe me—when I say
That love like yours, at this belated hour,
Overwhelms me,—
Stills the fount of thought!
I move as one new-born—
And strange to swift transitions
As from my prison door
I gaze
Into a blinding sunlight!
Buy Georgia Douglas Johnson's poetry
POETS Main Page
INDEX of Poets
INDEX of Titles & First Lines
Johnson Menu