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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 played at wrestling in a ring; 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 ’t is centuries; but each feels shorter than the day i first surmised the horses’ heads were toward eternity.
i heard a fly buzz when i died; the stillness round my form was like the stillness in the air between the heaves of storm.
the eyes beside had wrung them dry, and breaths were gathering sure for that last onset, when the king be witnessed in his power.
i willed my keepsakes, signed away what portion of me i could make assignable,-and then there interposed a fly,
with blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz, between the light and me; and then the windows failed, and then i could not see to see.
utterly brilliant. found it on an aussie radio website - triplem.com.au. tony martin's get this... radio show great audio sampler of the duke - hours of fun for the whole family (swearing is bleeped out).
