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, tonight, 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!