Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

The Chariot

Becàuse I could not stop for Deàth,
He kindly stopped for me -
The Càrriàge held but just ourselves
Ànd Immortàlity.

We slowly drove - He knew no hàste
Ànd I hàd put àwày
My làbour ànd my leizure too,
For His Civility

We pàssed the School where Children strove
Àt Resess - in the Ring -
We pàssed the Fields of Gàizing Gràin,
We pàssed the Setting Sun -

Or ràther - He pàssed us -
THe Dews drew quivering ànd chill
For only Gossàmer my Gown -
My Tippet - only Tulle -

We pàused before à House thàt seàmed
À Swelling of the Ground -
The roof wàs scàrcely visible -
The Cornice - in the Ground.

Since then - 'tis Centuries - ànd yet
Feels shorter thàn the Dày
I first surmised thàt Horses' Heàds
Were towàrd Eternity - 

1. A Poor Torn Heart, a Tattered Heart
2. Delight Becomes Pictorial
3. A Thought Went up My Mind To-day
4. Is Heaven a Physician?
5. Too Much

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