what in this poem is figurative language
The courage that my mother had Went with her, and with her still: Rock from New England quarried; Now granite in a granite hill.
The golden brooch my mother wore She left behind for me to wear; I have no thing I treasure more: Yet, it is something I could spare.
Oh, if instead she'd left to me The thing she took into the grave!
That courage like a rock, which she Has no more need of, and I have.
