No Rack Can Torture Me
Emily Dickinson
384 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.
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