In the quiet halls of Amherst’s grace,
Where whispers of words found their place,
Emily strode with gentle might,
Her soul a beacon, her world alight.

The shadows danced in her ageless room,
Where time stood still, a gentle loom,
Weaving tales of life’s profound,
In silence, her thoughts unbound.

Death, a guest she oft did greet,
In her verses, their souls would meet,
A dance of words, serene and true,
In the twilight of life’s hue.

Now she rests in eternal sleep,
Her legacy, a treasure to keep,
In every line, her spirit sings,
In death, as in life, she takes wing.