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.
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She died at play,
Gambolled away
Her lease of spotted hours,
Then sank as gaily as a Turn
Upon a Couch of flowers.
Her ghost strolled softly o’er the hill
Yesterday, and Today,
Her vestments as the silver fleece –
Her countenance as spray.
Tags: away, couch, countenance, died, fleece, flowers, gambolled, ghost, hill, hours, play, silver, today, vestments, yesterday
Keeping Up with Emily
