I felt a Funeral, in my Brain
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading — treading — treading — till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through —
And when they all were seated
A Service, like a Drum —
Kept beating — beating — beating — till I thought
My mind was going numb —
And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again
Then Space — began to toll
As all the Heavens were a Bell
And Being, but an Ear
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here —