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.
This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on September 15, 2018, by the Academy of American Poets.
About this Poem
“The Shroud” was published in The New Poetry: An Anthology (Macmillan, 1917).
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Poet and playwright Edna St. Vincent Millay was born in Rockland, Maine.
Date Published: 2018-09-15
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/shroud