I READ my sentence steadily,
Reviewed it with my eyes,
To see that I made no mistake
In its extremest clause, –
The date, and manner of the shame;
And then the pious form
That ‘God have mercy’ on the soul
The jury voted him.
I made my soul familiar
With her extremity,
That at the last it should not be
A novel agony,
But she and Death, acquainted,
Meet tranquilly as friends,
Salute and pass without a hint
And there the matter ends.
By: Emily Dickinson
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