The Shroud
Edna St. Vincent Millay
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!
Next 10 Poems
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Singing-woman From The Wood's Edge
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Suicide
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Unexplorer
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : Thou Art Not Lovelier Than Lilacs,-no
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : Three Songs Of Shattering
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : Thursday
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : Time Does Not Bring Relief; You All Have Lied
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : To A Poet That Died Young
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : To Kathleen
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : To S. M.
Previous 10 Poems
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Prisoner
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Poet And His Book
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Philosopher
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Penitent
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Merry Maid
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Little Hill
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Little Ghost
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Dream
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Death Of Autumn
- Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Blue-flag In The Bog
