Answer:
She left behind for me to wear; I have no thing I treasure more.
The golden brooch my mother wore;
Explanation:
In this dismal poem from Edna St. Vincent Millay, we're acquainted with the mettle of the storyteller's mom, solid as ''rock from New England quarried.'' Her mom had this valor her entire life, and she conveyed this blessing with her to her demise.
At the point when the storyteller's died, she left her little girl a gold pin, or a luxurious stick is commonly worn on the garments, which is a decent keepsake however not what the lady truly wishes she has. She wears the ornament and fortunes it more than everything else she possesses, yet she guarantees she would surrender everything to have only an ounce of her mom's mettle, which her mom has taken to the grave with her.
The storyteller closes by saying that bravery ''like a rock'' is never again required by her mom, yet by the storyteller herself.
