She was alone when she wrote a suicide letter
Love had ruined her life things wouldn’t get any better
In her sleeping gown frozen in a corner
She was crying her eyes full of tears
...
Good Kosciusko, thy great name alone
Is a full harvest whence to reap high feeling;
It comes upon us like the glorious pealing
Of the wide spheres -- an everlasting tone.
And now it tells me, that in worlds unknown,
The names of heroes, burst from clouds concealing,
And changed to harmonies, for ever stealing
Through cloudless blue, and round each silver throne.
... Read complete poem