I felt a Funeral in my Brain

by Emily Dickinson

I felt a Funeral in my Brain,

And Mourners, to and fro,

Kept treading — treading — till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through —

And when they all were seated,

A Service like a Drum —

Kept 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 —

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down—

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing — then —