No Rack can torture me —
by Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) English
No Rack can torture me —
My Soul — at Liberty —
Behind this mortal Bone
There knits a bolder One —
You cannot prick with saw —
Nor pierce with Scimitar —
Two Bodies — therefore be —
Bind One — The Other fly —
The Eagle of his Nest
No easier divest —
And gain the Sky
Than mayest Thou —
Except Thyself may be
Thine Enemy —
Captivity is Consciousness —
So's Liberty.
More poems by Emily Dickinson
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Because I could not stop for Death—
He kindly stopped for me—
The Carriage held but just Ourselves— …
-
There is a pain — so utter —
It swallows substance up —
Then covers the Abyss with Trance — …
-
A charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld.
The lady dare not lift her veil …
-
There came a Wind like a Bugle —
It quivered through the Grass
And a Green Chill upon the Heat …
All poems by Emily Dickinson →