Because I could not stop for death

By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886) was an American poet.

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 strove At recess, in the ring; We passed the fields of gazing grain, We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, he passed us; The dews grew 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 but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses' heads Were toward eternity.