Because I could not stop for Death -- He kindly stopped for me-- The Carriage held but just ourselves --And Immortality.
In the beginning of this poem, Emily Dickinsonis writing about the start of her journey with death.
We slowly drove -- He knew no haste -- And I had put away -- My labor and my leisure too, For his Civility --
They drove slowly.
We passed the School, where Children strove -- At Recess -- in the Ring -- We passedthe Fields of Gazing Grain -- We passed the Setting Sun --
They drove past a school.
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 --
They came to a horse, and looked around.
Since then -- 'tis Centuries -- and yet -- Feels shorter than the Day -- I first surmised the Horses' Heads -- Were toward Eternity --
And then they went on for eternity.