Because I would not stop for bots
They kindly stopped for me
The griffin-fields held just ourselves
And some casters, three
We slowly strove, they knew no haste
And so I put away
My harvest tools, my daggers too
For their rapacity
They passed the pass, where giants strode
Across their bridge of oak
They passed the tents where centaurs grazed
They passed the bear-filled wood
They paused before a named that seemed
To spring up from the ground
His head was scarcely visible
Sun beat upon his crown
They fought for centuries and yet
Lasted shorter than a day
Casters, healer and tank all died
And then they went away