hese shall leaveTheir mirth and their employments, and shall come65And make their bed with thee. As the long trainOf ages glide away, the sons of men,The youth in lifes green spring, and he who goesIn the full strength of years, matron, and maid,The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man-70Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,By those, who in their turn shall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to joinThe innumerable caravan, which movesTo that mysterious realm, where each shall take75His chamber in the silent halls of death,Thou go no, like the quarry-slave at night,Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothedBy an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch80About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.---------------------------------------------Because I Could Not Stop for DeathEmily DickinsonBecause I could not stop for Death-He Kindly stopped for me-The Carriage held but just Ourselves-And ImmortalityWe slowly drove-He knew no haste5And I had put awayMy labor and my leisure too.For His Civility-We passed the School, where Children stroveAt Recess-in the Ring-10We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain-We passed the Setting Sun-Or rather-He passed Us-The Dews drew quivering and chill-For only Gossamer, my Gown-15My Tipper-only Tulle-We paused before a House that seemedA Swelling of the Ground-The Roof was scarcely visible-The Cornice-in the Ground-20Since then-tis Centuries-and yetFeels shorter than the DayI first surmised the Horses HeadsWere toward Eternity----------------------------------------------...
