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...LA PALOMA IN LONDON by CLAUDE MCKAY SPOT SIX DIFFERENCES by MARVIN BELL WOODSMOKE AT 70 by HAYDEN CARRUTH PURSUIT OF THE WORD by ROBERT FROST THE TOURNAMENT by SIDNEY LANIER |