Emily

She had a garden full of herbs,
And many another pleasant thing,
Like pink round asters in the fall,
Blue flags, white flags a week in spring.

Housewives ran in each hour or so,
For sprigs of thyme, mint, parsley too;
For pans to borrow, or some meal;
She was the kindest thing they knew.

Tall, and half slender, slightly grey,
With gay, thin lips, eyes flower-clear,
She bragged her stock was Puritan;
Her usual mood was Cavalier.

Ample of deed; clipped, warm of speech,
Each day in some large-flowered gown,
She went the rounds to sad, to sick
Saint, humorist to the faded town.

She died at sixty. For a while
They missed her in each intimate spot—
Tall, and half slender, slightly grey—
They ate, drank, slept, and quite forgot.