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 labour, and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the school where children played, Their lessons scarcely done; We passed the fields of gazing grain, We passed the setting sun. We paused before a house that seemed A swelling of the ground; The roof was scarcely visible, The cornice but a mound. Since then 'tis centuries; but each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses' heads Were toward eternity.

It is true that the unknown is the largest need of the intellect, though for it, no one thinks to thank God.

Knew I how to pray, to intercede for your [broken] Foot were intuitive - but I am but a Pagan.

I work to drive the awe away, yet awe impels the work.

How softly summer shuts, without the creaking of a door.

Spring's first conviction is a wealth beyond its whole experience.

There's a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.