Made Nature different
We noticed smallest things—
Things overlooked before
By this great light upon our Minds
Italicized—as 'twere.
As We went out and in
Between Her final Room
And Rooms where Those to be alive
Tomorrow were, a Blame
That Others could exist
While She must finish quite
A Jealousy for Her arose
So nearly infinite—
We waited while She passed—
It was a narrow time—
Too jostled were Our Souls to speak
This is obscure and open to interpretation. Is the jealousy infinite? Or is the woman herself — her soul that is — infinite?  Most likely the latter; the soul is the part of any human who physcially dies but enables that person to live on.
The last Night that She lived 1100