The Brooklyn Bridge

Major fangiriling may occur.

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 –