[ quinze ]
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,
their lessons scarcely done;
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 scarcely 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.
— because i could not stop for death by emily dickinson
