Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The Carriage held but just Ourselves
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 recess in the ring]** Their lessons scarcely done;
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.
I never saw a moor,
I never saw the sea;
Yet know I how the heather looks,
And what a wave must be.
I never spoke with God,
Nor visited in heaven;
Yet certain am I of the spot
As if the chart were given.
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