Because I could not stop for Death

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	
At wrestling in a ring;
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 ’t is centuries; but each	
Feels shorter than the day	
I first surmised the horses’ heads	
Were toward eternity.

— Emily Dickinson (1830—1886)