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

"Because I Could Not Stop for Death" is one of my favorites by Emily Dickinson. Some call it morbid, but I find it beautiful and peaceful.
birdgirl73 Reviewed by birdgirl73 on . Poetry? Any of you motha's into poetry. Not like "street poetry" but the real stuff like Blake, T.S Eliot or Gerard Manley Hopkins? My favourite poem is the Love song of J.Alfred Prufrock by T.S Eliot, and this is the first stanza of it. Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherised upon a table; Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, The muttering retreats Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels Rating: 5