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 strove At Recess — in the Ring — We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain — We passed the Setting Sun —

Or rather — He passed Us — The Dews drew quivering and Chill — For only Gossamer, my Gown — My Tippet — only Tulle —

We paused before a House that seemed A Swelling of the Ground — The Roof was scarcely visible — The Cornice — in the Ground —

Since then — ‘tis Centuries — and yet Feels shorter than the Day I first surmised the Horses’ Heads Were toward Eternity —