Death, I say, my heart is bowed
Unto thine,-O mother!
This red gown will make a shroud
Good as any other!
(I, that would not wait to wear
My own bridal things,
In a dress dark as my hair
Made my answerings.
I, to-night, that till he came
Could not, could not wait,
In a gown as bright as flame
Held for them the gate.)
Death, I say, my heart is bowed
Unto thine,-O mother!
This red gown will make a shroud
Good as any other!
The Shroud
Edna St. Vincent Millay
(2)
Poem topics: dark, hair, night, bright, flame, dress, death, heart, mother, red, good, wait, thine, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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