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! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: ON A FAMILY PICTURE by THOMAS EDWARDS THE ROSE AND THORN by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE REMEMBERED MUSIC; A FRAGMENT by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL VERSES ON SEEING THE SPEAKER ASLEEP IN HIS CHAIR by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED THE TWO GLASSES by ELLA WHEELER WILCOX ON BEING SHEWN A BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY SEAT by ROBERT BURNS |