by: Georgia Douglas Johnson
- OULD I might
mend the fabric of my youth
That daily flaunts its tatters to my eyes,
Would I might compromise awhile with truth
Until our moon now waxing, wanes and dies.
- For I would go a further while with you,
And drain this cup so tantalant and fair
Which meets my parched lips like cooling dew,
Ere time has brushed cold fingers thru my hair!
POEMS BY GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON
"Welt" is reprinted from
The Book of American Negro Poetry. Ed. James Weldon Johnson.
New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922.