The Sun in Poetry

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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 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 –

Since then – ‘tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity –

– Emily Dickinson

 

3 thoughts on “The Sun in Poetry”

  1. First, I really enjoy this site. I both forget about PD and laugh at it. Secondly, I have always loved this poem. It’s thrilling and not morbid at all, even though it’s about death. I haven’t read it in years. Thank you for posting it along with the funny picture of the Caddilac with fins and the setting sun. What humor !

  2. These lines always disturb me and thrill me at the same time:

    We passed the Setting Sun –

    Or rather – He passed us –

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