The Shroud - 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.