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 And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His – We passed the School, where Children strove At – in the Ring – We passed the Fields of Grain – We passed the 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 –
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Because I couldn't stop for Death, he kindly stopped for me. The carriage held just the two of us, and Immortality. We drove slowly — he knew no hurry — and I had put away my work and my leisure too, out of politeness to him. We passed the school where children played at recess, we passed the fields of gazing grain, we passed the setting sun. Or rather, he passed us: the dew grew cold and shivering, because my dress was only gossamer and my shawl only tulle. We paused before a house that seemed a swelling in the ground — the roof barely visible, the cornice in the earth. Since then centuries have passed, and yet it feels shorter than the day I first guessed the horses' heads were pointed toward eternity.