SHE died, -- this was the way she died; And when her breath was done, Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun. Her little figure at the gate The angels must have spied, Since I could never find her Upon the mortal side. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WAITER IN A CALIFORNIA VIETNAMESE RESTURANT by CLARENCE MAJOR THE SACK OF BALTIMORE by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS HOLY CHRISTMAS by GEORGE HERBERT TO JOHN DONNE (1) by BEN JONSON BAVARIAN GENTIANS by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: SETH COMPTON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |