Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.
Part Four: Time & EternityXXVII
B
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
At wrestling in a ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.