IT WAS NOT DEATH, FOR I STOOD UP

1 It was not death, for I stood up,
2 And all the dead lie down.
3 It was not night, for all the bells
4 Put out their tongues for noon.

5 It was not frost, for on my flesh
6 I felt siroccos crawl,
7 Nor fire, for just my marble feet
8 Could keep a chancel cool.

9 And yet it tasted like them all,
10 The figures I have seen
11 Set orderly for burial
12 Reminded me of mine,

13 As if my life were shaven
14 And fitted to a frame
15 And could not breathe without a key,
16 And 'twas like midnight, some,

17 When everything that ticked has stopped
18 And space stares all around,
19 Or grisly frosts, first autumn morns,
20 Repeal the beating ground;