The Chariot

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