Because I could not stop for death
He kindly stopped for me
The carriage held but just ourselves
And immortality.
We slowly drove,
He knew no haste,
And i had put away my labor and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school where children played
At a wrestling ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain
We passed the setting sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground
The roof was barely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 'tis centuries;
But each feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
© Emily Dickenson