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.