Death, I say, my heart is bowed <br />Unto thine,--O mother! <br />This red gown will make a shroud <br />Good as any other! <br />(I, that would not wait to wear <br />My own bridal things, <br />In a dress dark as my hair <br />Made my answerings. <br />I, to-night, that till he came <br />Could not, could not wait, <br />In a gown as bright as flame <br />Held for them the gate.) <br />Death, I say, my heart is bowed <br />Unto thine,--O mother! <br />This red gown will make a shroud <br />Good as any other!<br /><br />Edna St Vincent Millay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-shroud-2/
