Because+I+could+not+stop+for+Death—

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 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—


 * Author's Purpose**: Emily Dickinson's purpose in writing this poem was