GaryG48 wrote:I think there are several versions of this poem. One version has an additional stanza. When it is included it is the fourth:
Or rather he passed us [he = the sun]
The Dews draw quivering and chill
For only Gossamer my Gown
My Tippet only Tulle.
This stanza is three feet, four feet, four feet, three feet while all the other stanza are four feet, three feet, four feet, three feet. It also adds the "coldness of death" image to the poem which is otherwise "warm" to the idea of death. As we grow older, do we pass the sun (as we pass through the stages of life) or does the sun pass us? I guess it depends on which version of the poem we read. The version posted here, without the missing stanza, is happier.
I can't believe I missed this stanza! I knew it felt like something was missing.
The version I originally read and came to love included the stanza that I accidentally left out. Instead of checking for accuracy, I copied the first version of the poem I saw (from Bartleby.com) without checking a different site for any differences or mistakes. For that, I apologize, because you're right, the poem takes on a completely different meaning, overall, once this stanza is added back in.
Please continue to analyze the poem with the missing stanza back in its rightful place:
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.
Or rather he passed us
The Dews draw 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 but a mound.
Since then ’t is centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.