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 />(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 /> <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 /> <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/
