She Went As Quiet As The Dew

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She went as quiet as the Dew
From an Accustomed flower.
Not like the Dew, did she return
At the Accustomed hour!

She dropt as softly as a star
From out my summer's Eve—
Less skillful than Le Verriere
It's sorer to believe!

by Emily Dickinson

Comments (1)

This poem was the one that my mother chose for my sister when she passed away 1999. This is one of the best poems that i have ever read.