Vanished
SHE died,—this was the way she died;And when her breath was done,Took up her simple wardrobeAnd started for the sun.
Her little figure at the gateThe angels must have spied,Since I could never find herUpon the mortal side.
Emily Dickinson (1830–1886)
SHE died,—this was the way she died;And when her breath was done,Took up her simple wardrobeAnd started for the sun.
Her little figure at the gateThe angels must have spied,Since I could never find herUpon the mortal side.