She died--this was the way she died;And when her breath was done,Took up her simple wardrobeAnd started for the sun.Her — Emily Dickinson, Selected Poems
She died--this was the way she died;And when her breath was done,Took up her simple wardrobeAnd started for the sun.Her — Emily Dickinson, Selected Poems
She died--this was the way she died;And when her breath was done,Took up her simple wardrobeAnd started for the sun.Her — Emily Dickinson, Selected Poems
She died--this was the way she died;And when her breath was done,Took up her simple wardrobeAnd started for the sun.Her — Emily Dickinson, Selected Poems
She died--this was the way she died;And when her breath was done,Took up her simple wardrobeAnd started for the sun.Her — Emily Dickinson, Selected Poems
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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, Selected Poems
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