Then vanish, and die utterly.
One would not know that rain-drops fell
If the round sea-wrinkles did not tell.
So souls come down and wrinkle life
And vanish in the flesh-sea strife.
One might not know that souls had place
Were't not for the wrinkles in life's face.
Note: The first week of rain after the treacherous heat of summer is literally having a sip of water after traversing through the dessert with a parched throat.
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